Truce Is Stranger Than Friction
by King in Yellow
Summary: Shego recruits her 'honorary younger sister' Kim for a paying gig. Ron is left in charge of a depressed Drakken – in NY City. And the yellow trout badly fumbles a pass at the blue fox. Sequel to Truce or Consequences, not Best Enemies series.
1. Stretching the Truce

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The Kim Possible characters from are owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners.

This does not require reading **Truce or Consequences**, but it might help if you did. In the earlier story Shego and Kim sort of lost Drakken and Ron and agreed to work together until they found them. Kim and Shego actually worked together better than they had expected, even coming to regard the other as an honorary sister – if only for the duration of rescuing Ron and Drakken.

**Stretching the Truce**

It had been a _loonnng_ day at Club Banana and Kim felt exhausted as she dragged herself home. Why did tweens feel a need to try on every color of every item in the store? This was the first day of her Spring Break, and it was worse than battling insane villains. Monique told her to relax – her constant fussing and straightening scared off customers – but Kim wanted everything to be perfect every second.

And at the end of the day Kim was simply exhausted. She needed to cancel her date with Ron. She wanted to eat dinner with her family, take a hot bath, and go to bed early.

"Kim?" her mom called as she pushed open the door.

"Yes?"

"Company. Family room."

Kim frowned. She wasn't expecting anyone. Her mother wouldn't have called Ron company, and Monique had left Club Banana at the same time as Kim. Who could it be? Kim was in no mood to see anyone. What if… _"Please, don't let it be Bonnie,"_ Kim thought to herself. _"Please don't let it be Bonnie." _Given how terribly her day had gone Kim was convinced of two things, she was facing the worst-case scenario, and the worst case scenario was Bonnie Rockwaller.

Kim was half right. Shego sat in the easy chair chatting with James Possible. The conversation with Kim's dad and sound of the television had apparently kept the green woman from hearing Anne talking to Kim. The thief quickly raised a stick with a white handkerchief tied to it and waved it over her head. "What kept you, Princess?"

"What are you doing here?" Kim groaned, she did not feel like the fight she feared she was about to have.

"Flag of truce."

"The truce was over when you brought me back, remember? And it doesn't answer why you're here."

"New truce. Lasts at least through dinner. Your mom asked me to stay."

Kim wondered if her mother had lost her mind. "And I still want to know why."

"Why what? Your mom asked me to stay to dinner 'cause she's polite. Unlike some people."

"Why are you here?"

"Oh, got a job offer for you."

"What?"

"Job offer."

"I don't rob banks, steal technology, or… What else do you do for Drakken?"

"Mostly tell him why his plans won't work. Not that he listens. I need you to help find a missing person. Seems like your kind of thing."

"I'm still lost. You're asking me to find a missing person? That's the sort of thing I hear from people asking for my help. You're asking for my help? Is Drakken missing?"

"Nope, I'm asking for you to be my assistant. I–"

"I'm not your assistant."

"Excuse me," James Possible interrupted, "can I listen to this game?"

"Sorry, dad."

"Take it to the kitchen," he suggested. "I think your mom wanted to hear more about this."

"How's he doing, really?" Shego whispered as they left Kim's dad to the baseball game. "He says he's fine."

"Pretty much," Kim confirmed. "A little kidney damage, but he's pretty much back to normal. He returned to work two weeks ago. Sitting around the house was driving him crazy."

"He told me that."

"Told you what?" Anne Possible asked as the two entered the kitchen.

"She was asking about dad," Kim told her mother. "Dad told her that he was back at Middleton Research."

"Yes," Anne agreed. "It's wonderful. Dr. Allen said there was some minimal damage, but unless he picks up some stupid habit like getting drunk every night his kidneys probably won't cause him any problems."

"Glad to hear that," Shego commented as Anne handed Kim a stack of plates and pointed to the table.

Shego perched on an open area of counter to watch Kim work and Anne demanded, "Now, what was this about a job offer for Kim. I don't allow her to do evil, no matter how badly she does it."

"Yeah, I'm curious too," Kim seconded as she finished putting out the plates and went to a drawer for silverware.

"Two thousand a day," Shego told her, "plus any expenses."

"Two thousand what a day?" Kim asked, the suspicion clear in her voice.

"Two thousand dollars. Oh, and a guarantee of two week's pay – even if it only takes a couple days."

Kim looked at her mom. Anne didn't look happy at the idea, but a minimum of twenty-eight thousand dollars, if it were real and honest, caught Kim's attention. "And it's legal?"

"Cross my heart."

"Like I can believe you," Kim snorted.

"Perfectly legit. I'm getting five grand a day for the job, but I'm not sure what I'm up against and I want someone watching my back. You're pretty good, Princess. So I thought, 'Hey, kid sister might need some college money for–" Shego stopped and looked at Anne, "See, when Kim and I were looking for Drakken and Ron we–"

"Kim explained when she got home. That's why I asked you to stay for supper and said you could make your sales pitch to her. But you still haven't exactly explained this job."

"Right. Basically Señor Senior, Senior, came up missing. Junior got worried and contacted me to help find dad. No ransom demand, but Junior figured it would be a lot cheaper to hire the best, and that means me, to get him back safe and sound."

Kim chewed her lip nervously. There was a chance of a trap. Oddly enough she feared it coming from the Seniors more than Shego. Not that she and Shego were actually friends, but Shego would try to take her head off in a fair fight rather than trap her. "Did you tell him you could hire me for the job?"

"Nope. Suspect that in normal circumstances either Senior wouldn't be happy with the idea of needing help from you. But this doesn't count as normal circumstances. I figure Junior just wants dad back. He told me I had a free hand to hire an underling and–"

"Partner. I'm not an underling."

"So, you'll take the job?"

"I'm not saying I'll take the job. I'm saying that if I take the job you call me partner."

"Hey, I lined up the job! I'm in charge. Me boss, you assistant."

"You want me? It's partners."

"Kim, you aren't thinking of agreeing to this, are you?" her mother demanded.

"I… I don't know… That would be a nice addition to my college fund."

"That's the spirit, Sis," Shego agreed cheerfully.

"And with Wade's help we–"

"Ixnay on the adeWay," Shego warned. "Junior hired his own techie before I agreed. And I'm not sure how happy he'd be with your boy genius snooping around on the Seniors' computers."

"But Wade could–"

"He could do a great job," Shego interrupted, "but I told you. Junior wouldn't want him – although if we don't get any leads in a few days you can suggest him to Junior. And I told you, Junior already hired someone… Although you'll probably be as thrilled about it as I am."

"What do you mean?"

"You remember Francis Lurman?"

Kim groaned, "Frugal Lucre? Of course… How do you know him?"

"He was cell mates with Doctor D for awhile. Came by to visit when he got out – and we couldn't get rid of the guy. He said you were the one who caught him. Anyway, he claims to be real good with computers and he works cheap."

"He does do computers. But the works cheap… I don't know."

"If he does a good job he hopes for full-time IT with the Seniors."

Anne Possible entered the conversation, "Kim, it sounds like you are really considering this."

"It's a lot of money, Mom. College is coming up."

"We have a college account for you."

"College is expensive," Shego reminded her. "And you've got the twin terrors too. I've always said; you can't have too much money."

"But you can have enough," Anne said firmly. "Kim, call your father and brothers for dinner."

Shego could tell Kim was interested, and decided not to press the issue during dinner. After the meal Anne went to watch television with her husband, leaving Shego and Kim to clear the table and load the dishwasher. "Well, Princess?" Shego demanded as Kim started the load.

"Sorry, not interested."

"Don't lie. Of course you're interested."

"Okay, I'm interested, but the answer is no."

"If you're interested, why in the hell say no?"

"First, I'm supposed to be working at Club Banana and–"

"Why?"

"Why what? I'm scheduled to work."

"Why do you work?"

"I want the money."

"They're paying you twenty-eight grand? Take out your cell phone, call and ask for time off."

Monique was number six on Kim's speed dial. "Girl, the manager was on my back over you today. She wanted to demote you to stockroom. If you want a few days off I'll see someone covers for you."

Kim frowned as she disconnected. "Okay, I _could_ have time off."

"You look a little disappointed to find out they have other people who can smile and point to over-priced sweaters. What's your next problem?"

"Well, I think this is some plot to keep me distracted while Drakken tries some scheme. He's figured out he can't beat me so he's having you run me in circles while he does his plan."

The green woman stared at Kim for a minute. "Hey, that's not a bad idea. Are you sure you don't have a touch of evil somewhere in you? Drakken has nothing going on at the moment. He's still in a funk over that YouTube video. This is legit, I promise."

"Like I can believe anything you promise."

"Takes one to know… Hey, I've got an idea. Boyfriend busy?"

"Ron?"

"Unless you got another one. Yeah, Ron, he got a job?"

"Not at the moment. He got fired for–"

"Doesn't matter. You can have him watch Drakken."

"Ron? Watch Drakken?"

"Sure. They got on okay in Asia. And Drakken isn't plotting anything. Having Ron around will probably cheer him up." She reminded Kim, "Two thousand a day, and expenses." Kim hesitated. "Call Ron," Shego suggested. "Let me talk to him."

Ron was just behind Kim's mom and dad on her cell phone. The two chatted a minute, then Kim handed the thief her phone.

"Hey, Sport," Shego greeted him cheerfully. "You heard Kim say I offered her a paying gig. She wants it, but needs someone to do a big favor for her. This is your chance to be a big hero in her eyes."

In the background Kim protested, "I already think he's a hero."

"What do you mean," Ron asked cautiously.

"She wants the job, but is worried this is some plan by Drakken to keep her out of his hair. You watch Drakken. She'll see that you've stepped up and done the hero thing. Kim gets a nice chunk of change and she'll owe you big time. Maybe you'll get lucky–"

"Stop that," Kim hissed angrily.

"Whattaya say, Sport? Is you in? Doctor D is really in kind of a depression, having you around would probably be good for him."

"I don't know. I'm supposed to write a paper on New York City over break and–"

"Go to New York."

"What?"

"Take Drakken. You can have five hundred a day for expenses."

"Five hundred?"

"Yep. You in?"

"I'm in."

"Pack your bag and be here in thirty minutes."

The phone went dead as Ron rushed to pack. "See, Pumpkin, problem solved. I'll run the two of them to New York and come back for you, then–"

"Why don't I come with you?"

"A, you look like you need a good night's sleep."

"Taking them to New York and flying back will leave you exhausted."

"Yeah, but if you've had a good night's sleep you can do most of the flying to the Seniors' island. And reason B is that Drakken's got a new lair and I don't want you to know where it is until you need to crash in to bust up some plan."

"But Ron–"

"He'll be blindfolded for most of the trip. Sounds like you're in."

"Tell me again it's all legal and two thousand dollars a day."

"It's real. Get a good night's sleep – and pack light. We can write new outfits off the expense account."

"That doesn't seem fair to the Seniors. Why–"

"They're billionaires, and we're saving Senior's ass."

Kim sighed, "Okay, partner, I'm in."

"Uh-unh. Not partners. You're assistant, remember?"

"I don't do sidekick."

"I don't work with partners. Bad memories of Team Go. You didn't mind being assistant when we were looking for Ron."

"I begged you to take me along. I had to agree. You came here asking me to watch your back! At least I… Tell you what. One condition and I'm assistant."

"What's the condition?"

"First… Okay, two conditions. First, you don't ask me to do anything evil."

"I'm not planning to. I knew you'd never agree to that."

"Okay, the real condition. You have to do something good."

Shego frowned, "Doesn't trying to rescue Senior count for good?"

"It would if you were doing it for free. You're doing this to get paid so it doesn't count."

"You mean I have to do something good, for free?"

"Out of the goodness of your black little heart."

"I think letting you in on the gravy train should count for the good deed," Shego grumbled. "Fine. I'll be good for nothing – help some old lady across the street or something."

"And smile when you do it?"

"Don't push me, Pumpkin."

"Okay, you have yourself an assistant." Kim saluted smartly. "How high, Sir?"

Shego grinned. "This might be fun. I–"

The knock on the door interrupted her thought.

"Got here as fast as I could," Ron panted. "New York on expense account? Seriously?"

"Seriously. Hovercar is out back. I'm going to start it now, be out in thirty seconds. Give girlfriend a kiss. I'll have to blindfold you when we get close to the lair. "

Kim broke the kiss sooner than Ron wanted it to end. "Ahhh," he complained.

"Do you have your phone?" she demanded.

"My phone?"

"Yes, you got stranded in Asia because you lost your communicator."

"I have my phone."

"Show it to me."

Ron panicked briefly when it wasn't in its usual pocket. Or the next pocket. Or the next. "Maybe I packed it. Call me."

He breathed a sigh of relief when his bag started ringing. He broke the next kiss sooner than Kim wanted, "Got to run. I don't think Shego likes to be kept waiting."


	2. Talk of the Town

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names are property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

**Talk of the Town**

As Shego neared New York Drakken grumbled, "I still don't see why I'm chained to Rod–"

"Ron," Ron reminded him. He turned back to Shego. "I don't believe this was Kim's idea."

The green woman shrugged, "Well, not the chain exactly. But she's worried that Drakken is up to some hideously evil plan and–"

"Really?" the blue man asked, he seemed to cheer up at the words.

"Absolutely," Shego assured him. "Thought this whole thing was one of your plans to distract her so–"

"That might work," Drakken mused.

"Not when you say it in front of Doofus here," Shego reminded him. "He'll tell her now."

"You should have told me later," the blue man complained. "What am I supposed to do with Roy and Rufus in–"

"How come you remember his name and not mine?" Ron yelled.

"Kim's insignificant other is working on a paper or something about New York. That's why the two of you are here. See Ellis Island. Ride the Staten Island Ferry. Visit the Statue of Liberty. Get cheap theater tickets at the TKTS booth at Times Square and take in something on Broadway or off Broadway." She dropped them off at in front of a hotel where she had found the cheapest rates on-line.

The two took their bags to their room prior to going out, and discovered two immediate problems.

"Why didn't Shego think of this?" Ron shouted through the closed bathroom door as Drakken used the facilities.

"Are you sure she didn't?" Drakken called back as he finished washing his hands.

"Good point," Ron admitted as Drakken came out and they switched sides of the door. "She'd do anything to humiliate me."

"Humiliate you?" Drakken called through the closed door. "You have a high opinion of yourself. She's doing this to humiliate me."

"But you pay her! She wouldn't… She would, wouldn't she?"

"Often," Drakken assured him.

The other problem concerned wardrobe. "The cuff around the ankle is loose enough we can slide underwear through it and put on socks. But what are we going to do about pants?"

"We need to ask the concierge," Drakken suggested.

"The what?"

"Concierge… They're sort of like reference librarians for people staying at a hotel. Tell you how to find a restaurant or where the nearest subway stop is."

"I don't think your conman is going to be able to help us with this problem."

"Fetishes-R-Us," the concierge told them cheerfully. "In the Village. Let me give you their address and phone number."

"And the nearest subway station?" Ron asked.

"Um… not sure."

"You aren't sure where the nearest subway station is?"

"Depends on where you're going. Two stops are fairly close. You going to start with the Village or going somewhere else?"

"Let's get the clothing first," Drakken suggested.

As they left the hotel lobby Ron asked, "Doc, do you find it at all scary that he referred us to a place called Fetishes-R-Us? And that he knew the address and phone number off the top of his head?"

They were outside the hotel and Drakken ignored the question as he breathed deeply and smiled, "New York, New York is a wonderful town, the Bronx is up and the Battery's down, you ride on trains in a hole in the ground."

"I didn't know you wrote poetry."

"I don't, it's an old song."

"What's the Battery?"

"Well, a battery is something to store electricity… Maybe the subway runs on batteries?"

"Awfully big batteries."

"Amazingly big," Drakken mused. "I bet I could power a giant killer robot with a battery big enough to run a subway train–"

"No talking shop," Ron reminded him. "We're here for peace and relaxing. Maybe the battery is some cave where bats live. That could be why the battery's down in that song, it's underground."

Drakken shrugged, "Or maybe it's some kind of baseball museum where they've got the bats of famous Yankees and Dodgers."

"Uh, Doc? The Dodgers are a team in California. Why would their bats be in a New York baseball museum?"

"Ha! Kids today know nothing of history. They were a team in New York before they moved to LA… The Bronx Dodgers? Queens Dodgers… No, they were the Brown Dodgers… Wait, I'm thinking of the Brown Bomber; that was some guy named Joe Louis. Anyway, the Dodgers were somewhere in New York before the Mets."

"Maybe the bats of famous Mets are in the battery too."

"I don't think there've been any famous Mets."

The subway turnstiles proved a little complicated with their legs chained together, but eventually them made it through.

As they waited on the platform Ron asked, "Do you find weird that two men chained together just went through the subway gate thing and are waiting on the platform and no one is looking at them or said a thing to them?"

"Really? Where are they?" Drakken asked looking around at the other people on the platform.

"Us, I mean us! No one said a thing."

Drakken chuckled, "Roy, Roy… You kids from small towns just don't understand New York. They've seen everything here, and no one makes a comment about it. It is not the way New York works. If you were standing here chained to a giraffe I don't think anyone would say a thing."

"It would have to be a short giraffe."

"Pardon?"

"I mean, I don't think there'd be headroom on the subway for an adult giraffe."

"Hmm… Good point. If you were chained to a miniature giraffe I don't think anyone would say anything."

"And he has four legs."

"I believe that is the customary number of legs for giraffes. If it had six legs it would be an insect of some sort."

"I'm just wondering about paying the fare for it to get on the subway. It would only be one giraffe, but it has two sets of legs to get through the turn-thing. So, would you pay one fare or two?"

"That's an interesting question… We should ask at the information kiosk on our way out. I think this is our train arriving now."

They managed to accidentally trip a swarthy man with their chain as they got on the car. He swore loudly at them in a language neither recognized.

Ron glanced around at the other people on their subway car more than New York etiquette suggested was appropriate. "Doc?" he whispered.

"Yes?"

"Someone is staring at us."

"Are you staring at her?"

"It's a him… Yes, I am."

"Well stop it. He'll think you're strange."

"I'm chained to a blue man. Why would he think I'm strange? You said they've seen it all in New York."

"Exactly, so staring is strange behavior. It marks you as a tourist."

"I am a tourist."

"You know that. And I know that. But why do you see a need to tell everyone else on the car?"

As they got off at the Christopher Street-Sheridan Square Station Ron noticed, "The guy who was staring at us got off here too."

"So did a hundred other people."

"He's using his cell phone."

"That only describes fifty of the people who got off. You worry too much, Rob.

The streets were crowded enough with NYU students, many dressed in black, that Ron lost track of the young man he had noticed. Rufus sat on Ron's shoulder and helped direct the two men.

When they emerged from the clothing store with their side-zip pants Ron thought he recognized the young man from the subway in a small group across the street, but wasn't certain.

"Double-shot espresso," Drakken told him. "Then we talk about what I want to see in New York."

"What I need to see," Ron corrected him. "I have to write a paper about this."

"I can be your guide," the blue man offered. "I've been in New York twice – once for three days. I know everything about the city."

"That'd be great," Ron mumbled. As they had started in one direction looking for a coffee shop the small group across the street had started moving in the same direction – paralleling them on the other side of the street. "Watch 'em, buddy," he whispered to Rufus, who scrambled to Ron's shoulder.

"Uh-uh," the mole rat exclaimed as three more young people, largely in black scurried to catch up with the others.

"We're being followed," the young man whispered to Drakken.

"And Shego says I'm paranoid. Don't worry. There're hundreds of people on the streets."

Drakken ordered his coffee, Ron a pomegranate-mango juice, and Rufus a small carrot cake. (Well, Rufus didn't actually order the carrot cake since he didn't have pockets to pay for anything. He pointed to what he wanted.) They found a table to sit, and their shadows entered the coffee shop.

"They're still following us," Ron warned.

"They probably just like the coffee," Drakken suggested. "It's very good." He turned to the naked mole rat, "How's the carrot cake?"

Rufus did his best to give it two thumbs up, a difficult feat when you do not possess opposable thumbs.

Ron tensed, "That guy, the one from the subway car, is coming over."

"He probably wants the half-and-half," Drakken said, reaching for the creamer.

The young man in black reached into his pocket just before reaching their table and Ron started to panic.

"Excuse me," the student asked, producing a small pad of paper and a pen. "Could I have your autographs? I think you two are geniuses!"


	3. Truce is the Daughter of Time

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

**Truce is the Daughter of Time**

Having delivered Ron and Drakken to New York, allowing Kim to get a night's sleep, Shego let the redhead pilot the hovercraft most of the way to Senior Island. The green woman napped for much of the distance.

After waking from her nap Shego grabbed a granola bar and bottle of water and relieved Kim at the controls. Kim took the co-pilot's seat.

"You're sure Ron will be okay?"

"He'll be fine. He and Doc are buds after their adventures in Asia."

"Drakken really won't try to hurt him?"

"Of course not. You don't think boyfriend can take care of himself?"

"I… Of course I do. But Drakken is an evil genius after all."

Both women laughed. "He'll be fine," Shego assured Kim. "Won't let Doc out of his sight for a minute."

"Except when one of them needs to go to the bathroom."

"Didn't think about that," Shego muttered. "Oh, sure, Princess. They'll figure out a way."

"What are you talking about?"

"Never mind. Say, how's Doofus doing on the movies he owes you? Did he let you pick as many as I told him to?"

"I released him one movie early from the promise to you."

"Why the hell did you do that?"

"I'm trying to set a good example for him to follow – thinking of another person's feelings."

"Bad idea."

"What do you mean, bad idea? I think it's an important lesson."

"Well, duh, of course it's an important lesson. But I'll bet you were thinking of his feelings since you started dating, and he was walking all over yours. He needed to be taught a lesson – bad behavior brings punishment. You're killing the message I'm trying to beat into him."

"Speaking of bad behavior and dates, are you going to give me the full story on France?"

"France? What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. Let me grab a granola bar and bottle of water, and then I want the story."

Shego was chewing the last bite of her own granola bar when Kim got back to the co-pilot's seat. "Well?" Kim demanded.

Shego swallowed before speaking, "I think we're half an hour from Senior Island."

"You're dodging my question."

"What question?"

"How was France?"

"The food was great. The people were rude. The weather was good."

"The company! How was the company! You know what I mean."

"I told you, the French are terribly rude… That and they don't use enough soap."

Kim was turning red with frustration. "You and Joe! You called me when you got back and said you had fun! I–"

"I did call and said I had fun. I figure the details are none of your business or might embarrass you."

"Have you seen him since then? Does he call?"

"Well…"

"Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!"

Shego smiled, "Okay, I was up in Canada a couple weeks ago. He asked me to watch the Ottawa Senators play."

"What are the Ottawa Senators?"

"A hockey team."

"Never heard of them."

"I know. Maybe it's like being a fan of the Chicago Cubs, you know they're never going to win big but you follow them anyway."

Kim smiled, "So, you must have gone for the company. You don't seem like a hockey kind of woman."

"Hey, I can appreciate mindless violence."

"You're telling me you went to Canada just to watch hockey? I don't believe you."

"Well," Shego confessed. "We had a lot more fun after the game than I did watching it. But I'll spare you the sordid details and actual positions."

"That's okay. So, you two really hit it off?"

Shego was quiet for a moment. "Not sure. He's sort of a backpacking in the wilderness and eat the trout you catch yourself kind of guy and I'm a lie out on the beach and have someone bring the strawberries and champagne right to your face kind of woman."

"Ummm… Yeah, I can see that. Hey, I tried."

"Appreciate the effort, little Sis. He and I aren't through trying just yet. We're planning to trip to Portillo. He–"

"Portillo?"

"Ski resort in Chile. Killer slopes. Not sure if killer slopes sounds like a vacation, but snuggling in front of a roaring fire at the lodge with a big mug of hot chocolate – double shot of Kahlua – then back to the room where he can massage my aching muscles. Then he will ever so gently run his hands–"

Kim held her hand up in a 'T' position, "Time! That's as much a kid sister needs to know. I am so jealous. I'd love to get Ron on a skiing trip. Of course I'd probably end up massaging his aching muscles at the end of the day."

"That can be fun too, Pumpkin. But you'd more likely be visiting him at the hospital after they set his broken bones. I thought you and Sidekick hadn't done the dirty yet."

"It's called making love–"

"If sex isn't dirty you aren't doing it right."

"You're impossible. No, we haven't done it yet. But that kind of romantic weekend sounds like…"

"Like a lot more fun than a quickie after a mission. Got to agree. Quickies have their place, but for real satisfaction you–"

"You are crude and disgusting."

"Thank you."

"And give me a call after skiing in Chile… But not too many details, okay Sis?"

Shego laughed, "You got it, Pumpkin. Grab the binoculars, I think that's Senior Island ahead."

Junior cringed when Kim stepped from the hovercraft, raising both arms to cover his face and one leg to protect the groin area. Frugal Lucre began to run in the opposite direction.

"Lucre, stop right there," Shego barked. Lucre stopped. "Come back here!" He cautiously moved back, keeping Junior between himself and the redhead.

"Don't hit me," Junior pleaded. "I am committing no crime… I am committing no crime at this time… I–"

"Knock it off," Shego told him. "You said I could hire an assistant to help with the job. This is the assistant I hired."

Junior cautiously relaxed from his defensive stance. "I do not understand. So this is not the renowned teen crime-fighter Kim Possible?"

"Renowned teen crime-fighter? Who writes your dialogue?"

"My esteemed father always hired the best–"

"Wait. I don't want to know. Just shut up or talk like a normal person."

"I am not certain if I understand. Your assistant is Kim Possible or only looks like Kim Possible?" Lucre asked.

"It's Kim."

Kim still hadn't spoken a word. Junior and Lucre looked at her, perplexed. Then Lucre seemed to have an idea and whispered something in Junior's ear. Junior seemed to brighten slightly, "So, Kim Possible is working for me? I can give her orders?"

"This is my assistant. I told you, I want backup. She'll be on my itemized bill at three grand a day–"

"You told me I was getting two," Kim protested.

Shego glared at Kim, "Shut up, Possible, administrative expenses." The green woman turned back to Junior and Lucre. "She answers to me, not you." Shego looked back at Kim, "Either of these two try to tell you something to do that you don't like, kick them in the nuts. That clear?"

Kim saluted crisply, "Kick them in the nuts, Sir. Yes, Sir. Very clear."

Shego gave Kim a playful slap on the ass, "And that goes for either of them laying a finger on you or giving you any sexist bullshit, clear?"

Kim glared as Shego, "And what do I do with you?"

Shego shrugged, "Check out your assistant job description in the manual. And I don't have nuts. What do you do with them if either tries that?"

"Kick them in the nuts, Sir."

"Right." Shego looked back at the two men, now slightly bilious in color, "That clear to you two?" Both men nodded.

Kim brought the tension down a couple notches by asking Junior, "Have you heard from your father?"

"No."

"Ransom demand yet?" Shego asked.

"No."

Shego shook her head, "That's not good," she said in a grim voice.

"Perhaps they are trying to figure out how much to ask for," Lucre suggested.

"You figure out what you're going to ask before you grab someone – you want to work fast, right Kim?"

"That's how I'd do it… If I was going to kidnap someone– Not that I want to kidnap anyone, I just–"

"But why have I not heard from father, then?" Junior interrupted.

"There're worse things than kidnapping," Shego muttered. "Lurman, you do the work on the Rotelli family like I asked?"

Lucre nodded.

"What's the Rotelli family?" Kim asked.

Shego ignored Kim for the moment, "Find anything?"

"Nothing that looks helpful," Lucre admitted. "I can't find anyone out of prison who's capable of something like that."

"You've got no imagination. Let me decide if they're capable or not."

"Fine. You want to start on the ninety-three year old who's been in a nursing home for twenty years and thinks Mussolini is still running Italy or the nun doing mission work in Costa Rica? 'Cause after that we're talking fifth cousins and real long shots."

"Who are the Rotellis?" Kim asked again.

"You remember the Seniors lost their money a couple years ago when some idiot gave a slime ball named Vinnie Wheeler power of attorney?"

"I remember the Seniors losing their money for awhile. I didn't get all the details."

"Well, Senior got it back. Turns out Vinnie Wheeler was one of the up-and-comers in the Rotelli crime family. I emphasize was. Senior was not happy with the Rotellis, and got enough attention on them that they're all behind bars…" Shego turned back to Lucre, "If they're in prison who took over their rackets? Could the new guys be doing the Rotellis a favor?"

"The family that took over never liked the Rotellis, they'd be more likely to send flowers and chocolate."

"Have you been able to hack into any of Senior's accounts and look for any activity?"

"Not yet," Lucre answered, "I–"

"Why don't you just ask Junior for the account information?" Kim wanted to know.

"Well, it seems that after the aforementioned idiot threw away Senior's money–" Shego began.

"I am not an idiot!" Junior protested.

"If the floo shits," Shego told him, "it quacks like a duck." As Junior pondered her comments Shego finished telling Kim. "Junior can't get into any of the large accounts now. Don't worry, there's enough in the little ones to insure we get paid."

"I'm not worried about that. I just don't want Senior to be hurt. He's a very nice… Other than having crime as a hobby, of course, but–"

"But he still has enemies," Shego assured her. "You can't make a ton of money without making a ton of enemies too." She turned to Junior, "Did you try to come up with a list the way I asked?"

"Everyone loved my father!"

"I've got a name," Kim offered.

Shego grinned, "Just earned your pay. Who?"

"Philippe Bouillon. Got Senior kicked out of the Billionaire's Club. Senior wanted revenge. I stopped him, but Bouillon seemed like a man who'd want his own revenge."

"That is certainly possible," Junior agreed.

"Sounds like a place to start," Shego agreed. "Lucre, did you search blogs for negative posts or get into Senior's emails for threats?"

"Yes."

"Print 'em off?"

"Yep."

"Then grab 'em. You can tell the redhead and me about them while we're on our way to pay a 'friendly' visit to Mr. Bouillon."


	4. Talk Is Cheap

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

** Talk is Cheap**

"Geniuses?" Ron responded to the request for autographs, as Rufus took the offered pen and put his 'X' on the sheet of paper.

The student was so amazed with Rufus he didn't know what to do, "Oh my God. Oh my God!"

"It is so refreshing to have my genius recognized," Drakken said smugly, taking the pen when Rufus offered it to him.

"Uh, exactly why did you say that," Ron wanted to know.

"The video… The YouTube video," the stranger stammered. "The act in… Where were you? Some of us thought," he pointed at Rufus, "was CGI. He's real. How did you…"

"I think we were in Nepal," Ron told him. "I still don't understand why you said Doc was a genius."

"Both of you. That was the most incredible piece of performance art ever. We talked about it for days in class."

The young man's friends began to move in their direction. He pointed at Rufus, "He's real! I said he was real, and he's here. You were wrong, Steve."

"Yeah, but I still say it was from a studio in Hollywood," a girl protested.

"No, they say it was in Nepal."

"Nepal?" one of the other students said, clearly puzzled. "Is that near Burbank?"

"It's in Asia, dummy," the girl told him. "Nepal, really?" she asked skeptically.

"We didn't have a map," Drakken explained. "It's possible we were in northern India at that point."

The student who had been addressed as Steve was staring at Rufus in disbelief, "How long did it take you to train him?" he asked Drakken.

"Rufus is with me," Ron protested.

"What other tricks does he do," a girl named Cynthia asked.

"Uh, Rufus doesn't do tricks," Ron explained. "He's just smart. He–"

"He signed my pad," the first student interrupted, showing the others the paper with the 'x' the naked mole rat had inscribed on the page.

"No way," the skeptical girl answered and handed a pen to the rodent and held up a piece of paper. Rufus quickly scratched another 'x'.

"He did it! He really did it!" Steve said in amazement. "Is he animatronic?"

"No, a naked mole rat," Drakken told him.

"Please," another student asked, "we spent a whole class period just arguing about the meaning of your work. What was the point of that video?"

Ron and Drakken looked at each other in a state of panic. They had needed to raise a little money to get out of the town. It had all been a hideous mistake and neither wanted to admit that fact. Rufus scrambled up Ron's arm and appeared to whisper in his ear, to the delight of the audience.

"Uh, what did you think it meant?" Ron asked to buy time.

"I thought it was real from the start," the first student told them in his best suck-up voice. "I said it was demonstration of the ubiquity of the Internet in this wired age."

"I thought it was a commentary on our treatment of animals," the skeptical girl said, "a role reversal."

"It wasn't commentary;" Steve protested, "it was satire on how animals are mistreated for our amusement."

"A parody of our fascination with reality shows."

"A protest against forced conformity to socially prescribed roles!"

"A demonstration on the interconnectivity of the human race in the digital age."

"It was a promotion for PETA on the absurdity of our treatment of pets!"

"They skewered the nature of fame. It was effing obvious that's what they were doing!"

Neither Drakken nor Ron understood more than about half of the comments being argued around them. Drakken listened desperately hoping to discover a majority position he could exploit to his advantage and couldn't find one. He solemnly raised his hand and the students ceased their argument, "Why do you need to restrict it to a single meaning?"

The students looked blankly at each other for a few seconds. "That is so genius," Steve murmured.

"What's this piece you're doing now?" the first student to address them asked. "Why are you chained together?"

Ron picked up on Drakken's cue, "We, uh, can't tell you. It would, uh, limit your–"

"Our perceptions," the skeptic agreed. "It's a parody on conformity isn't it?"

"As Jon was trying to explain," Drakken began.

"Ron! My name is Ron!"

"Whatever. As he was saying, we don't want you to prejudge the work based on expectations we tell you."

"So, will you be in New York long?"

"We're not certain. Probably not more than a few days."

"Could you come to a gallery exhibition tonight?" Cynthia asked. "Professor LeTourne is having a special showing. He'd love to meet you. It was his class where we talked about you."

Drakken, afraid of someone pointing out that the Emperor had no clothes, tried to decline the offer. "I'm not sure we could work it into our schedule."

"It'll really be something," another student promised. "The contestants for Next Iron Chef are going to be making hors d'oeuvres."

"Seriously?" Ron asked. "Will Alton Brown be there?"

"I think he's one of the judges, yeah."

Ron looked at Drakken, "We got to go, Doc. We got to go."

"Alton Brown?" Drakken asked.

"Kitchen god," Ron explained in a reverential tone. "Taught me everything I know about cheese."

"Cheez!" Rufus seconded.

"Fine," the blue man grumbled.

"You're going?" the first student asked, clearly excited.

Drakken held up the leg with the chain attached to Ron. "I don't believe I have a choice under the circumstances."

Cynthia gave them directions for the gallery. The two spent the rest of the afternoon walking through the Village as Ron took mental notes for the paper. Drakken insisted they stop at a couple electronics stores so he could search for death ray parts, and Ron went into the first five souvenir shops they saw looking for tchatchkes for his family, Kim, and her parents. The two discussed strategy for the evening over bi-bim-bop and bulgoki at a Korean restaurant. "Whatever this Professor LeTourne did, we love it," Drakken told Ron.

"Even if it stinks?"

"Especially if it stinks. No one ever attacks you when you're telling them they're wonderful."

"You've been out of high school quite a while, haven't you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Tell a girl she's wonderful, ask her out, and she laughs in your face, rips your heart out of your chest and stomps on it."

"Well, normal people don't… Trouble with you and Kim Possible? She's not all that. You could do better."

"I don't want to do better… I mean, no one is better than KP. I was just thinking about freshman year… And sophomore… And junior… Come on, are you telling me you were good with the girls in high school."

"I was too busy with science club for girls," Drakken informed him haughtily.

"So you were a real loser too?"

"Yeah," Drakken sighed. "But this guy is saying we're geniuses. We need to stay on his good side."

"It isn't honest."

"Well, let's put it another way. If we insult him we get tossed out and you don't get to worship your kitchen god."

"I haven't seen the Professor's stuff," Ron admitted. "But something tells me I'm going to like it."

Feeling a need to dress for the occasion they purchased ties before heading for the gallery, although Ron wore his with his collarless shirt and the tiny bow-tie on Rufus seemed inappropriate on a naked mole rat.

Professor LeTourne watched the gallery door with a sense of mingled expectation, dread, and skepticism. He half suspected his students were playing some sort of practical joke on him with their claim that they had met the internet artists and invited them to the showing. He half wanted very much to meet them and have their opinions on his work. And he half dreaded they would end up receiving more publicity for their appearance than he would for his exhibition. There was a small commotion near the door and the two of the students who had met Drakken and Ron that afternoon ushered the 'performance artists' over to meet the instructor.

"Theodore Lipsky," Drakken introduced himself. "And this is my assistant, Rob."

"Ron, my name is Ron," Ron explained.

A pink creature with shiny black eyes popped out of an over-sized pocket, startling everyone, and made a noise which sounded to many like, "An'me!"

Ron finished the introduction, "And this is Rufus."

The professor adjusted his glasses, "Oh my. I am delighted you could be here. Please, I'd like your opinions on my work."

"We're honored to have been invited," Drakken assured him.

"Where's Alton Brown?" Ron wanted to know.

"Art first," Drakken told him sharply. "We're here for the art. Get your priorities in order."

"You can be here for the art," Ron told him. "My priority is Alton Brown."

"It is so hard to find good assistants," Drakken told the professor.

"The Iron Chef competitors have their stations throughout the gallery," the professor told Ron.

"Art first," Drakken said firmly, and pointed at the chain connecting him to Ron. "The food is here in service to the art, not the other way around."

Ron recognized the truth in that, but still didn't like it. "Ah man, that tanks."

Several movie stars were at the exhibit, both George Clooney and Johnny Depp chatted briefly with Drakken and Ron. Depp had seen the video on YouTube. In person he wondered if the two engaged in a sort of sly humor or were totally clueless.

Students who had met the pair that afternoon appeared to have told others about Rufus. As they strolled through the gallery people kept coming up and asking for the mole rat's signature

"Does it bother you that he's getting more requests for autographs than we are?" Ron asked Drakken.

"Intensely, but I'm not going to let him know how jealous I am."

"Dude, he's right here. He heard that."

"Nonsense, he doesn't understand English… Does he?" Drakken looked at Rufus. "Do you understand English?" Rufus shook his head no and Drakken breathed a sigh of relief. "See, I told you he doesn't understand English."

Professor LeTourne produced found object sculptures, primarily from salvaged auto parts and it was far more interesting than either Drakken or Ron had feared. The two men listened carefully to other people in the gallery to pick up terms worth repeating - composition, balance, negative space, and perspective.

"What's patina?" Drakken whispered to Ron as a student made the comment on something constructed from a fifty-four Chevy engine.

"I think it's a sandwich."

"Doesn't look like a sandwich," Drakken muttered and got in very close to stare at the work.

Professor LeTourne chose that moment to come over and ask for an opinion. "You seem fascinated with that particular work, Mr. Lipsky."

"I'm interested in your technique," Drakken said in an admiring tone. "I'll let others praise you for composition and use of negative space, but your welding skills are excellent. You could build a wonderful giant death ray."

"Technique, yes, I… Um… Thank you."

"You're talking shop again," Ron hissed as the instructor nervously edged away.

A couple small camera teams circulated through the gallery, recording the reactions of people as they sampled the hors d'oeuvres.

Ron managed to work better with the contestants in the Next Iron Chef competition than Drakken had with the professor. In addition to the time constraints on preparation they'd been thrown another curve ball. After purchasing the ingredients for what they'd planned to make they had been forced to pass their ingredients to another chef.

"That's it, I'm eliminated," one contestant sighed when Rufus turned up his nose at an offering. "A rat wouldn't eat what I fixed."

"The guy who bought it probably planned to marinate it for as long as he could in garlic and ginger," Ron suggested. "No flavor when you just grill it like this."

"One of the judges for this elimination challenge is Bobby Flay."

"So, you figured the way to impress the grill guy is by grilling something badly?"

"It made sense at the time. I was in panic mode when we had to switch ingredients."

"Well, everything else you've got it great. I've had a couple weak items at other tables. When will the judges be here? I want to meet Alton Brown. I see Ted Allen."

"Ted isn't a judge in this competition. He likes the art. The judges should be here soon."

Ron got into a discussion on Bobby Flay at another competitor's station. "I just don't like watching him that much."

"How can you not like Bobby Flay? He's a great chef!"

"I'm not saying he isn't a great chef. I just got so turned off by Throwdown that I don't care about watching him."

"What's wrong with Throwdown?"

"What's right with Throwdown? You have Bobby Flay, world-famous chef taking on amateurs and cooks from mom-and-pop places."

"But he's challenging them in their specialties."

"Yeah, after he and two assistants watch a video of what the other people can do. Then they go into a test kitchen and keep practicing until they're pretty sure Bobby can do it better. What I find really sketchy is that Bobby can take all of these rich and expensive ingredients that a lunch wagon, or pie place, or diner couldn't afford to use. He'll have a Throwdown with some place that makes French toast, and while they use a bread they make themselves he'll have some double egg brioche custom baked in France and flown over while it's still warm." Ron noticed the eyes of the competitor had widened slightly. The teen smiled to himself, obviously this chef had never considered the simple logic of his argument and Ron plunged ahead. "So it's like, his show with his rules. I don't know what he'd do if he wasn't making the rule." The chef he was talking to had now gone absolutely white and a look of fear glazed his eyes. "And Bobby Flay is standing right behind me now, isn't he?"

The chef managed to nod a slight 'yes.'

"There is a very angry individual behind you," Drakken confirmed.

"Is he holding a cleaver?" Ron asked.

"No."

"So, you don't think I'm a good chef," Bobby growled as Ron turned around.

"I never said that, Sir," Ron corrected him, "What I said was–"

"So a nobody like you goes talking about me behind my back and–"

"Uh, actually, you were listening behind my back."

That only seemed to make the chef more angry. "You think you could cook better than I can?"

"I never said any such thing. My point was I don't think Throwdown's a fair competition."

"And Iron Chef? You think that's rigged too?"

"All the Iron Chefs are good. I wouldn't say rigged. You don't know the mystery ingredient. But it's a kitchen you know, with sou chefs you know, and a time frame you've worked in a lot."

"So, you're saying it's rigged."

"No, I'm saying that experience gives the Iron Chefs kind of an edge. You're a great chef. I just said I didn't know how you'd do in a kitchen you didn't know with the same ingredients that the competitors had to use."

"So, you want to take me on in Chopped?" Bobby asked, looking around for Ted Allen.

"I never said–" Ron tried to answer.

"We need to judge the Iron Chef competitors," Alton Brown reminded Bobby.

Grateful for the interruption Ron fell to the floor and kissed the shoes of Alton Brown, "I am not worthy. I am not worthy."

"Perhaps not," Alton commented dryly, "but at the moment there is a competition going on."

"Ted," Bobby called to the host of Chopped, "come talk with these two. I want to face this kid and put him in his place." Then he moved over to the table to sample what the chefs in the competition had produced.

"Everyone has been telling me I need to meet you two," Ted Allen commented after coming over to talk with Ron and Drakken. "What was Bobby upset about?"

"Roy here insulted his cooking," Drakken explained.

"My name is Ron," the teen explained. "And I didn't insult his cooking. He's a great chef. I was explaining why I didn't like Throwdown and it was, like, he took it as a personal attack and challenged me to face him on Chopped."

"Chopped is my show, and Bobby Flay doesn't issue the invitations. He was probably angry at being insulted and over–"

"I didn't insult him! I said he was a great chef."

"Then hopefully he will calm down. They're supposed to be breaking up the Chopped set tomorrow any way, we finished shooting the season today… It would be interesting to have Bobby on as a competitor."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "But not against me! I'm just some guy whose friends think he cooks good."

An idea ran through Ted Allen's mind and he stayed with Ron and Drakken. "You two are very funny… I'm trying to decide which of you is the straight man."

"We're, uh, both straight men," Ron assured him nervously.

"Straight man is a term in comedy," Drakken started to explain to Ron. "In a comedy duo there was often the funny man and the straight man who–"

"Uh, Doc… Do you know who Ted Allen is?"

"I… Um… He certainly looks familiar."

"Did you ever watch Queer Eye for the Straight Guy?"

"I heard about it, but–"

"Ted Allen was one of the eye guys."

"So you're saying…" Ron nodded. "Both straight men," Drakken assured him. "Absolutely straight men."

"Chained together and wearing clothes from Fetishes-R-Us?"

"The chain is part of a new performance art piece," Drakken said quickly.

"How did you know…" Ron asked nervously. "Do you shop at–"

"Mr. Lipsky failed to remove a tag and it is clearly visible on the back of his trousers."

Drakken's hands went to his rear and he found the offending tag and pulled it off.

"He was checking out your butt," Ron whispered to Drakken. The teen then turned to Ted. "We weren't thinking about pants when we–"

"Don't say we weren't thinking about pants," Drakken hissed.

"We weren't thinking about dressing when–"

"That's even worse!"

"We needed to get zipper sides for the project," Ron finished. "Do you know how hard it is to find them?"

"I'm very pleased to say I do not."

Bobby Flay came back to talk with the three. "We're done here, heading back to the studio to decide who gets eliminated." He turned to Ron, "Sorry I lost my temper like that."

"No problem," Ron told him. "You thought I was insulting you. That wasn't what I meant. Sorry I sounded that way."

"But you did tell him you wanted to face him on Chopped," Ted reminded Bobby.

"I was blowing off steam. It wouldn't be fair."

"Fair or not, it gave me an idea for an interesting episode. The time and ingredient restraints on Chopped are so extreme some viewers may think some competitors are ill-qualified when it is simply the case they are facing nearly insurmountable difficulties. To have you facing average cooks might give viewers a better sense of the challenge."

Drakken looked apprehensive, "I don't know about this."

"Ron," Ted asked. "How well do you cook?"

"My friends tell me I'm great."

"There," Ted firmly, "an amateur with skills others rate above average. Mister Lipsky?"

"What?"

"How well do you cook? Since you're joined with Mr. Stoppable here you will need to be a contestant."

Drakken thought fast. If he was introduced as a performance artist on television then people would see the humiliating video on YouTube as a work of artistic genius. There was, however, a problem with that, "I'd say I was an average cook."

"That is perfect for what I want. Now, I need one more contestant. I'd like to have a woman… I suggest the next woman to come around that corner, or the woman after her if the first one refuses the offer."

The woman identified herself as Rose Gorbnakov. When offered the chance to appear on Chopped she appeared nervous. "I'm such a terrible cook, you wouldn't believe. I'm no cook at all. You don't want me."

"Actually," Ted assured her, "you are exactly who we would like. What will someone who isn't a great chef do when confronted by our basket of mystery ingredients?"

No one other than Ted seemed thrilled at the prospect of the upcoming battle, but he cheerfully told the three who didn't know the location how to find Studio A at Food Network and told them to be there by noon the next day.


	5. The Truce Will Out

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney. All registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

**The Truce Will Out**

Kim piloted the hovercraft as Shego went through Lucre's printouts and swore. "None of these sound promising."

"No wild crazies threatening him, if that's what you mean," Lucre agreed. "I thought the use of alliteration in one blog was–"

"Shut up," Shego threatened. He shut up. Shego turned to Junior. "Tell Possible your father's movements last week. I didn't tell her and want to hear it again – try and catch something new."

"Father went to Chicago for some kind of charity event. I–"

"What kind of charity event?" Kim asked.

Junior idly waved his hand in a 'who-knows' gesture. "There was a new club opening in Naples and I do not remember what he said. Besides, I know he left Chicago. There was a board meeting for one of his companies in London and–"

"Name of the company? What do they do? What his position with the company?"

"Why do you ask these questions? I don't know. There was a new club opening in Berlin. I needed a new debit card and I called the London hotel where he always stays. They said he had checked out the day before. He was not there, but he had not called to tell me of any change in plans."

"He left early?"

"My father does not leave early when business or crime is to be conducted. And my father always tells me of his travel plans. It can only mean something is wrong."

"Where does Lucre figure in this?" Kim asked. "Shego's worked with you, but I want to know how Lucre got involved."

"Interesting question," Shego asked, the suspicion obvious in her voice. "When did you start working for Junior here," she barked at Lurman. "Before or after Senior disappeared?"

Lucre, fearing he had just become a suspect, panicked.

"I found his classified ad in the back of Villain's Weekly," Junior explained. "He was looking for a job and I wanted someone with computer skills for this and other projects I–"

"What other projects?" Kim wanted to know.

"Not our business," Shego told her. "Right now Junior's business is Junior's business. We're hired to look for Senior. Period."

When they settled on the north veranda of Bouillon's chateau four security guards came out to challenge them.

"I'll handle them, Pumpkin," Shego told Kim. "You impress on these two the fact they need to stay in the hovercar 'til we get back."

Kim nodded. She turned towards Junior and Lucre, but before she could say anything Lucre squealed, "I heard! I heard! Don't hurt me."

"Is he always this high strung?" Kim asked Junior.

"Only since your arrival," the tanned man answered. "We both find your presence unsettling."

"I don't hit people unless they start the fight," she reminded them.

"But you don't work with Shego either," Junior pointed out, "and when some traditions are being ignored perhaps other traditions will be ignored also."

"Move it, Princess," Shego called.

"Stay here and wait for us," Kim reminded them quickly.

Junior wanted to know, "What if you do not return?

"Don't worry," Shego assured him in her best Schwarzenegger accent, "I'll be back."

They only encountered two other security guards on their stroll through the mansion, and located Bouillon's office by the sound of his videoconferencing as he sat at his mahogany desk eating caviar.

The man in Istanbul (was Constantinople) asked, "What's wrong?" as a startled expression came on the billionaire's face. Before he could receive an answer the screen went dead.

"Just a few questions," Shego said cheerfully as Bouillion pressed a button and screamed, "Guards!"

"Do you have more than six?" Kim asked. "If you don't I'm afraid no one may be available to answer."

"You're Kim Possible," he gasped, "you're supposed to be one of the good guys."

"She is," Shego assured him. "She's here to keep me from killing anyone or hurting 'em too badly. We haven't worked out what 'too badly' means in enough detail. Hey, what's this thing worth?" she asked picking up an ornate vase from a pedestal.

"It's priceless. Tang Dynasty."

"Oops," Shego said and let go, dropping the vase. Kim made a diving catch and kept it from smashing into the floor.

"Shego!" Kim protested. "Not nice."

"We're not here for nice, remember. We're here for answers."

"Mr. Bouillon," Kim asked politely. "We need any information you might have on Señor Senior, Senior."

"I've not seen him in years. Not since he ruined that caviar at the Billionaire's Club with his freeze ray."

"So, you can't help us at all?"

"No, now get out!"

"Kim," Shego suggested, "why don't you step into the hall for a minute and see if any guards are coming."

"I don't think I should leave you alone with him."

"Oh, _I'll_ be fine," the green woman assured her, cracking her knuckles. "Run along. This bag of lard may not want to confess his sins to a hero like you, but I'm sure when its just the two of us he'll come clean one thief to another."

Bouillon was sweating, "Now see here, I–"

"Go, Kim," Shego ordered.

"We really need to define 'too badly'," Kim muttered as she headed for the door.

Shego turned to the billionaire and smiled, "Maybe you don't know anything about Senior. I'll be honest, you're a long shot. But you also have the most active grudge I've found – and that makes you worth questioning. You can tell me the truth about Senior if you know anything about his disappearance or–"

"He's missing?"

"Yep. Now–"

"And you think I might have had something to do with it?"

"Nah… I'm just here to burn a random hole in your desk." Shego held up her index finger, and green plasma flames began to flicker around it. Suddenly she jabbed her finger down, piercing the mahogany and leaving the edges of the hole smoldering. "Now, if you don't want me putting a random hole in your chest you've got two choices. One is to give me information on Senior. If you really don't know anything you're going to tell me enough about your crimes, sins, and double-dealings that you'll wish to God you could tell me you'd kidnapped Senior."

"I won't be threatened in my own office."

"I don't have time to take you anywhere else," Shego yawned. She slammed her burning finger through the desktop again. "Next one is in you. Let me explain a couple things. I'm wanted in eleven countries. That means two things for you. First, I've got no fears about doing something really nasty – I am not a nice person. Second, it means there's no way in hell I'm going to the police with anything you say. I'm not interested in your crimes, only in Senior. Prove to me you know nothing by confessing something a lot worse. I've got zero interest in turning you in, period. Oh, guess I have one interest besides Senior. I don't like being lied to. I won't be bringing goody-two-shoes Possible with me if I have to come back and show you what I do to liars."

Boullion was not a nice man. But he did have an excellent memory and could recall every dirty dealing he had ever had a hand in. After eleven minutes Shego told him to shut his mouth and called Kim back in. "He doesn't know anything."

"So, he's innocent?"

"Didn't say that. He's a right bastard. But he doesn't know anything about Senior disappearing."

"And didn't know any other members of the Billionaires' Club who didn't get along with him?"

"Hell, in the excitement of the moment I forgot to ask." The green woman turned to the billionaire, who would have happy to point them to anyone other than himself. "Did Senior have any enemies besides you in the Billionaires' Club… Anyone who hated him more than you?"

"Not that I know of."

"Okay, Kim, we're out of here," Shego turned to the Bouillon, "Almost tempted to put you over my knee and spank you for some of that. But you'd probably like it way too much."

After the office door closed behind the two women Kim grinned as they headed for the hovercar. "We do a really great good cop, bad cop routine."

"Whoa, Sis, I do not do any kind of cop at all, I'm a villain."

"Okay, we do a great good cop, bad villain then."

"And you're not a cop. You're teen hero. And there is no good hero, bad villain routine."

"How do you know, did you check?"

Shego sighed, "Fine, we did a great teen hero, nasty badass villain routine."

Kim raised a hand in the air and Shego laughed and gave her a high-five. "Chicago or London?" Kim asked as the women climbed into the hovercraft and lifted off.

"Why Chicago?" Lucre asked. "Junior said he left there for London."

"But he behaved oddly in London," Shego pointed out. "Left a meeting early. Could have had a bomb or something strapped on him from Chicago."

"How did he get on a plane with a bomb?" Lucre asked.

"I hope you do not think my father would travel by commercial flights," Junior sniffed. "His pilot takes him where he is ordered."

"Any trace of the pilot?"

"He flew the plane back to our island at my father's orders and was told my father would call when he was needed."

Shego swore, "And the reason you didn't mention that until now?"

"He is only a pilot. What could he know?"

"We really need to talk about what not hurting someone 'too much' means," Shego whispered to Kim.

"Agreed," Kim whispered.

"London," Shego announced. "Lucre, try and find out anything you can about the Chicago visit, Kim's right – it could be important. But that's a long way to travel when we know he made it to London and we're trying to work fast. Junior, try and see if you can think of anything that, while it may seem unimportant in comparison to the opening of a new nightclub, might strike a normal person as perhaps being of significance. Kim–"

"I do not understand what you mean," Junior protested.

"I mean THINK! Dear God, please tell me you know what the word means." Junior retreated into sullen silence.

Shego returned to her earlier orders, "Kim, your turn to fly in half an hour. You can take us to England, I'll take over from the coast to London."

Kim nodded, "Can I get you a granola bar or bottle of water."

"Nah, thanks for offering."

Kim was in the pilot's seat when Frugal Lucre explained, "Senior was at a speed philanthropy event in Chicago."

"Speed philanthropy?"

"Heard of speed dating?"

"Yeah, that's where a bunch of people get together to meet. Either the men or the women stay seated at little tables and every few minutes the other group shifts to they're talking to someone new. The idea is to see if you can tell enough fast to decide if you want to meet with the person for a real date."

"Speed philanthropy," Frugal Lucre explained, "is like that. The rich people sit at little tables and every three minutes a different person tries to convince them to put money into a worthy project. Some are straight charities, some are research grants, might even be a few investment schemes that sneak in."

"Can you get a list of everyone who was there?" Kim asked. "Both philanthropists and the groups that wanted to talk with them?"

"Already saved on the laptop, I'm good," he told them, trying to make points with Junior.

At the coast Shego took over as pilot and Kim took the seat beside her. Junior's mind had apparently wandered from the assignment Shego had given him. "Kim Possible?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Do I remember correctly that you are the blue fox?"

Kim blushed, "Yes," she mumbled.

"Blue fox?" Shego whispered.

"Animology," Kim answered.

"You didn't believe that crap, did you?"

Junior continued, "I am the yellow trout, the soul mate of the blue fox."

"I really don't believe that stuff," Kim said, answering them both.

"But you took the test," he pointed out. "The test does not lie, and you are the blue fox."

"I was just playing around! I didn't take it seriously."

"There was much science in animology, the book had many pages," Junior reminded her.

"It wasn't science. It was just trying to match people up based on certain criteria," Kim argued.

"But there was science in the criteria," Junior countered. "This evening you and I should go to a club in London and talk."

"Kick him in the nuts," Shego whispered loudly enough for both men to hear.

"I am not being offensive," Junior pointed out. He turned to Kim, "Have I said anything which might cause offense?"

"No."

"Then you will go out with me this evening?"

"Sorry, not interested."

"But why are you not interested? Am I not handsome and rich? I dance very well."

"I'm just not interested in going out with you."

"But why? I only suggest we get to know each other better."

"You're handsome, but no. There is someone else."

"Someone else? Who is he? Let me prove myself. I have so much to offer."

Kim sighed, "Okay, I didn't want to say this, but Shego and I are lovers."


	6. The Food Speaks for Itself

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

**The Food Speaks for Itself**

Cameramen shot introductions for the contestants before Ted Allen recorded the introduction for the Chopped episode. "Welcome to a very special edition of Chopped. We have four very different competitors today. First, I am pleased that Bobby Flay agreed to appear today." A montage of Bobby Flay's other shows on Food Network would be edited in at this point during post production. "We have performance artists Lipsky and Stoppable. Ron Stoppable's friends tell him he is very good cook – and it turns out he invented the naco." The visual added in production showed Ron biting a jalapeno pepper. "Theodore Lipsky is considered an average cook by those who know him." Drakken had attempted something dramatic in the test kitchen for his introduction scene. He tried to flame off the alcohol in a pan of brandy and was looking slightly charred as the ball of fire died out. "And finally we have Rose Gorbnakov, who has the number of every take-out and delivery place in a three block radius of her apartment in the contacts on her phone." The video would show Rose waving her cell phone at the camera.

"Many of you will have seen the YouTube video featuring Lipsky and Stoppable, the third member of their team will be sitting at the judge's table, but will not serve as a judge." The camera showed Rufus, sitting at the end of the judge's table, wearing a small bib and a hopeful smile. The mole rat waved at the camera.

"Normally the show features four chefs. No one likes to be chopped, it makes the first chef eliminated can feel like a failure. All of those chefs are good cooks, they are simply overwhelmed by our mystery ingredients and the time constraints they face. So, today, these three brave individuals have agreed to face the hidden terrors of our mystery baskets to demonstrate what average people will do when faced with the same challenge."

The four competitors came out and Ted introduced the judges. The four contestants stood at their stations and Ted had another surprise for them. "Because Theodore and Ronald have limited mobility based on their current performance piece we will be chaining Rose to Chef Flay for the competition."

"You didn't tell me you'd be doing this," Bobby complained as two stagehands came out with a length of chain and two shackles.

"There was always the chance you might have backed out of the competition. But it's too late now."

With the additional chain in place the contestants returned to their stations. "Please open your baskets. And in the appetizer round you must use: corn flakes, key limes, pawpaws, and rattlesnake. For the appetizer round you will have twenty minutes, and time starts… now!"

Rose stared in horror at the butcher-paper wrapped package of rattlesnake meat – unwilling to even touch it for fear it might bite her.

"Plan what you need," Ron told Drakken as he put on a saucepan filled with oil to heat up, "we got to hit the pantry for whatever else we want."

"What's a pawpaw?"

"Fruit… Tastes a little a banana… Big seeds."

"Let's move," Chef Flay told Rose.

Bobby Flay grilled strips of rattlesnake while he put the corn flakes through a blender and remade them into tortilla chips. He used the pawpaws and limes as ingredients in a salsa to accompany the chips.

Drakken figured that enough hot chilis would cover over any mistakes and put everything into a rattlesnake chili.

Ron coarsely crushed the cornflakes and used it to bread the deep-fried rattlesnake nuggets which were served with a wilted arugula salad. Key lime juice and pulped pawpaws went into the dressing.

The comment that pawpaws had a taste similar to bananas led Rose to slice them up and serve them in a bowl with the cornflakes and a little sugar and milk.

Eighteen minutes into the competition there was a scramble to secure dishes and begin the plating.

As Ted began the ten-second countdown Bobby finished the arrangements of the chips and rattlesnake fingers and carefully wiped up a couple stray drops of salsa. Drakken hurriedly ladled chili into bowls. Ron splattered dressing on the salad and threw on the rattlesnake nuggets, and Rose poured milk over the cereal.

Alex looked at the chunk of pawpaw in her spoon. "Did you think of taking the skin off?" She asked Rose.

"I didn't even know what it was. The boy said it tasted like banana so I figured 'corn flakes and bananas' a classic breakfast for an appetizer."

"But you don't leave the peel on the banana."

"I think I'm glad you left out the other two ingredients," Marc commented.

Only Aarón managed to get down two spoonfuls of Drakken's chili. "Did you think that the habaneras with the jalapeños might have been overkill?"

"I've always been fond of overkill."

After Marc put down the glass of water he suggested, "Chili was ambitious for the amount of time you had. There wasn't time for the flavors to come together. Did you taste this yourself?"

"Are you crazy? With all those spices?"

"Oh my," Alex commented as she sampled Ron's salad, "the plating looks terrible, but the taste is wonderful."

"Love the rattlesnake nuggets," Marc agreed

"Everything tastes better deep-fried," Ron told them.

"The rattlesnake fingers are a bit tough," Aarón told Bobby.

"There is no fat in it," Ted explained, "which can make it difficult to achieve tenderness."

"The taste is good, but they are tough," Marc agreed.

"Still, the best plating, obviously," Alex commented.

The four contestants chatted in a waiting area as the judges decided who to chop.

"You were better than I expected," Chef Flay told Ron. "Everyone loved what you did."

"Yeah, but it was sloppy, wasn't it?"

Bobby laughed, "Would you rather eat something that tasted great and looked bad, or something that tasted bad and looked good?"

"Yours looked good and tasted good."

"They thought the rattlesnake fingers were too tough."

"I'd have loved to try some of your salsa."

"At least I know I won't be around for the next round," Rose commented.

The judges had more discussion than might have been necessary. "Chef Gorbnakov has to go," Marc said. "She only used two ingredients - and didn't even peel one of those."

"The only chef out there is Bobby," Alex reminded him. "And I wonder if we should chop the blue guy. I think he tried to poison us with that chili."

"Some people like their chili spicy," Aarón insisted. "Although the fact he wouldn't taste it himself is a strike against him."

The four contestants came back and Ted raised the lid, revealing the bowl of corn flakes. "I'm sorry, Rose, but you have been chopped. Thank you for helping us show what a non-professional might do when confronted with a Chopped basket."

The woman gave a short laugh. "I guess this was my fifteen minutes of fame. You unchain me now so I walk down the hall, yes?"

"Actually, no. Since Theodore–"

"Call me Drew," Drakken suggested.

"Since Drew and Ronald are still chained you will remain chained to Chef Flay. You can, if he wishes, help him by stirring or plating."

_"I don't think so,"_ went through Bobby's mind.

The three remaining cooks assumed their stations behind three mystery baskets, with Rose standing at Bobby's side. "Chefs, please open your baskets," Ted announced. "For the entrée round you must use framboise, honey, jicama, and guinea fowl. For the entrée round you will have thirty minutes and time starts… now!"

The three men stared briefly at the ingredients, mentally deciding what they would do and what they needed from the pantry. Bobby would have greater freedom of movement since he could go over as necessary without taking Rose away from her cooking, but having seen her ability in the first round he did not want to use her as a sou chef.

Ron turned on the oven. "Okay, Doc. Let's get our stuff."

"Two extra stops,"Drakken told him. "I want to get our plates now, and help me bring a microwave to my station."

"I–" Ron decided he didn't have time to argue. "Sure."

The guinea hens were too large to be cooked whole. After the comments about the rattlesnake being tough Chef Flay cut off the legs and thighs for grilling, since the higher fat content would keep them juicy. Ron cut the breast meat into four equal portions, put slivers of garlic, a sprig of rosemary and half a bay leaf under the skin of each piece and put the pan in the oven. Drakken hacked up the bird into unidentifiable pieces and put them on the plate, chopped the jicama into pieces which he placed in bowls, drizzled the raspberry beer and honey over both, and pulling a multi-tool out of his pocket began to take apart the microwave.

Ron put on a pot of water to boil for soba noodles, then began to julienne the jicama and two carrots to go into a slaw with a little thinly sliced purple cabbage. Bobby Flay reduced a sweet potato into small pieces for faster cooking, put the back of the guinea fowl into a hot skillet to brown, and taking out a mandolin began to slice thin jicama chips. Drakken had the pieces of the microwave spread out on the cutting board in front of him.

Ron put the soba noodles into the boiling water. He made a glaze which included the framboise and honey for the bird, then turned on the broiler to make the skin crisp. Framboise and honey were also included in the slaw dressing and he planned to use a little honey with the sesame oil and seeds on the soba noodles. Bobby Flay put honey with the sweet potatoes and spices and trusted Rose with mashing and mixing. He used the framboise in a vinaigrette dressing for the endive and jicama salad and taking the pieces of back meat out of the skillet deglazed the pan with the remaining framboise and prepared a sauce for the guinea fowl. Drakken was assembling something from the pieces of microwave.

With a minute remaining Ron began to frantically plate his entrée. As with the appetizer round he knew it wouldn't be pretty, but hoped the taste was good. Chef Flay once again plated his dish more carefully.

Ted Allen began the ten-second countdown, and Drakken pointed the device he had created at the four plates of uncooked food and fired his death ray. The smell of seared flesh filled Studio A and Ted Allen temporarily lost track of the countdown.

"The Japanese were experimenting with using microwaves for death rays during World War II, " Drakken explained to the judges was the three cooks presented their offerings.

The judges had a hurried, whispered conference among themselves. Aarón whispered something to Ted, who informed Drakken. "The judges want you to put down the death ray before they comment on your food."

"But–"

"Please, just put down the death ray and no one gets hurt."

With the feeling of safety one judge commented, "The skin on my guinea hen is mostly burned off. I think you vaporized the jicama on this plate."

"You've got skin left on your bird? I've got the jicama… I think he missed it on this one. The bird is toast."

Chef Flay's dishes were critiqued next. "Did it bother you that you were using two different pieces of the bird, legs and thighs?" Alex asked.

"My bird only came with two legs so I had to make do with what I had."

"You should have asked me," Ron told him. "I only used the breast meat. I'd have been happy to give you the thighs from my bird."

"I find the sweet potato too sweet," Marc told him. "It tastes like a dessert."

"You need to practice more on your knife work," Alex told Ron. "The jicama slaw has wonderful color and taste, but the different sized slices is something you should work on."

"But, once again, everything tastes wonderful," Aarón assured him. "Why didn't you take out the rosemary and bay leaf?"

"I was afraid of messing up the skin after I crisped it up."

The four contestants moved to the waiting area. "You'd have given me the thighs if I asked?" Bobby asked Ron in disbelief.

"Sure."

"Even though it would have helped me?"

"I can't compete with you. You're a real chef. Why not give them to you?"

Chef Flay shook his head in disbelief, "Kid, you are serious competition. I'm starting to think if I win it will only be on presentation. You've got me worried."

Drakken nervously drummed his fingers on the table, "I figure I got a lot of points for originality."

"Count on it," Rose told him.

"I thought we agreed, no death rays while we were chained together," Ron complained to Drakken.

"You may have said you wouldn't build a death ray. I made no such promise."

The judges had no trouble deciding whom to chop. Audiences would not be surprised when the cover was lifted, revealing the smoking, charred result of Drakken's experiment in flash cooking.

"Chef Flay, Ronald," Ted addressed them as they stood at their cooking stations. "You may use the person you are chained to in any way to help with preparation. Please open your baskets. For the dessert round you have arrowroot cookies, goat cheese, wild gooseberries, and cherry brandy. For the dessert round you have thirty minutes, and time starts, now!"

_"Cheese cake,"_ Ron thought. _"Or maybe ice cream. Why not both?"_

_"I can't believe how good that kid is,"_ ran through Chef Flay's mind. _"I need to knock this one out of the park. He's making me look bad."_

The two pairs of cooks ran for the pantry.

"I hope they realize how tart wild gooseberries are," Alex commented. "It's going to take a ton of sugar to use those."

Ron had Drakken stir the mixture that would go into the ice cream machine while Ron prepared the goat cheese with cream cheese, eggs, and other ingredients for a cheese cake.

Bobby had Rose watching a large chunk of chocolate slowly melting in a double boiler while Bobby prepared a cake batter which included the arrowroot cookies reduced to a flour-like consistency and lined the bottom of a jelly-roll pan with parchment paper. "Ted," Chef Flay called. "Can I flambé my dessert when I serve it?"

"Only if you competitor will allow you to–"

"Sure," Ron called, "I'd love to see that."

"You're alright, kid," Bobby called as the cake batter went into the oven

Ron had Drakken run the arrowroot cookies through a food processor with some sugar and cinnamon. With the addition of melted butter Drakken pressed the resulting crumbs into the bases of eight small spring-form pans. The mini-cheesecakes went into the oven and Ron began to think about how to treat the gooseberries for the top of the cheesecake, when he realized he had forgotten the cherry brandy completely. "Pantry!" he shouted at Drakken.

"Not so loud," the blue man complained, rubbing the ear closest to Ron.

"Now!"

A can of cherry pie filling went into a blender along with half the bottle of brandy to serve as a base for a cherry topping while Ron worked on the gooseberries.

Chef Flay was mixing the goat cheese with ricotta, the gooseberries, and sugar for a creamy mixture for the jellyroll. The cake had baked quickly because it was so thin, but he hoped it would cool enough not to melt the filling. He checked on the chocolate Rose was stirring and decided against adding the brandy yet.

With Drakken's help Ron's final dessert looked better than his earlier dishes. On one side of the rectangular plate was a small cheesecake, still warm and topped with sugared gooseberries. On the other side an equally pale ice cream which contained gooseberries and lots of sugar sat on its own arrowroot cookie crust. The cherry glaze was drizzled over both.

Bobby had two of the pinwheel cuts from the jellyroll on each plate and finished covering them with the chocolate and brandy mixture as the time ran out.

Chef Flay served first, and flambéed the brandy

"Incredible," Marc commented.

"Spectacular," Alex agreed.

The judges were equally impressed with Ron's dessert. "The fact you've used essentially the same ingredients on both the cheesecake and the ice cream, but one is warm while the other is cold and one is sweet while the other keeps the tartness is extremely sophisticated.

"I can't remember the final two contestants both having two desserts of this quality on the show before."

"Thank you for your desserts. You will need to wait for what may be a surprisingly difficult decision by the judges – who will consider your complete meals," Ted told Ron and Bobby.

"Sophisticated," Ron repeated as the four contestants sat around a table in the chef waiting room and sipped bottled water and sampled a couple unused slices of Chef Flay's jellyroll. "I don't think anyone has ever said that about me before."

"I feel like I'm being pranked," Bobby grumbled. "Who hired you – Anne? Robert? I could see Alton doing this."

The discussion at the judge's table was heated, "Bobby's plating was better."

"Agreed, but the kid showed more creativity."

"Did he actually show greater creativity, or are we just surprised by the fact we had no idea what he might do, and we have expectations of Bobby because we all know him?"

"That is not going to be easy to answer. What about taste? They were very close, but I give Bobby two of the three."

"I give Ron two out of three. And I think Ron had him beat on creativity. Bobby's experience showed in technique and plating, he clearly won in those areas. But ultimately it's about taste."

"I have to disagree with you. I think Bobby won two out of three on taste. And however much or little you assign to technique and plating it has to count for something. I think we're giving Ron too much credit on creativity, just because he was such an unknown."

"It looks like we're favoring a Food Network star if we give it to Bobby."

"I feel like he deserves it. It isn't fair to deny him a victory simply because he didn't crush the opposition as much as we expected. That kid is good."

"Where did you find him, Ted? Is he from some European culinary school?"

"I met him at a party last night. But we do need to make a decision."

The contestants were called back in to stand before the judges' table.

"This has been a most unusual show," Ted said honestly. "Ron, I don't think anyone expected you to perform as well as you did. You truly have a natural talent for–"

"No he doesn't," Bobby objected.

"Excuse me," Ted asked, unaccustomed to being interrupted as he built to a moment of dramatic tension. "Are you accusing him of being a ringer?"

"No, I'm saying he has so much talent it's unnatural. I don't know if he's sold his soul to the devil or discovered some kind of cooking steroid, but he's so good I won't call it natural talent, strictly unnatural."

"Mutant cooking powers," Aarón suggested.

"Could be," Bobby Flay agreed, then turned to Ron. "Kid, your technique is rough – but your talent's incredible. If you want to go to cooking school and learn good technique I'll pay your way – if you agree to take a job in one of my restaurants after graduation."

"Hey, I'll make the same offer," Marc said and reached for his card.

"Don't listen to them, kid," Aarón told him. "You'd be happier with me."

Ron accepted the cards, "I'm not sure I want to be a chef. It's really hard work. And the stress you're under? I don't think I could take it every day."

Bobby chuckled and clapped him on the back, "It's been fun. I just hope it's not my dessert under the cover."

"It won't be; I'm sure you won."

"Ah yes," Ted said, putting his hand down on the lid. "It is time to reveal who has been chopped."

He began to slowly raise the cover. When the footage was compiled into a program it would cut to commercial messages at this point, forcing viewers to continue watching to see who would win.


	7. A Seeker of Wisdom and Truce

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

**A Seeker of Wisdom and Truce**

Kim sighed, "Okay, I didn't want to say this, but Shego and I are lovers."

The hovercar dove suddenly as Shego jerked the stick in shock. "What the hell!" the green woman whispered fiercely.

Kim reached over and pulled the stick, leveling off the aircraft. "I had my reasons," she whispered back.

"Well they'd better be damn good… Hell, damn good isn't good enough," Shego muttered.

In the rear of the hover car two men sat in stunned silence for a moment – although whether it was from Kim's revelation or the sudden erratic flying wasn't clear. "I guess that explains why they're working together," Lucre whispered to his employer.

"And the pat that Shego gave to Miss Possible's… But she is my blue fox."

"You may not be the only yellow trout in the stream," Lucre said. _ "I've got to post this on the Internet! What a story."_

Senior had come to England to participate in a company board meeting, but the four arrived too late to meet with the other board members that day. Junior promised he would not leave the hotel for any London nightlife until he had set up appointments the next day with company executives and board members. To Shego's chagrin when they checked into a hotel Junior told the clerk, "Three rooms."

"Three?" the green woman asked as the clerk checked availability.

"I will be considerate towards you and Miss Possible. Do not worry. I will reveal your secret to no one."

"What secret is that," the clerk asked absent-mindedly was he returned with key cards.

"None of your damn business," Shego fumed. She grabbed a key card and looked at the number. "H23 Possible. Move your ass, now!"

_"They can not wait to be alone,"_ Junior mused._ "It is infinitely sad."_

The presence of three large Norwegian businessmen in the elevator with them kept Shego from saying anything until they reached the room.

"Okay, Princess," Shego began, raising her voice a little louder than necessary, "what in the Hell are you doing? Are you trying to ruin both our reputations?"

"Junior was asking me out."

"So?"

"So, I didn't want to go out with him."

"Then you kick him in the nuts. Why do you tell him we're lovers?"

"Well, him asking me out didn't seem like something I should hurt him for."

"Then you tell him no. He's not the brightest bulb on Broadway, but I'm pretty sure he knows what the word means."

"I told him no. I told him no two or three times! But he kept saying he was handsome and rich and I should see if we had anything in common."

"He is handsome and rich. By the way, that's not a bad combination."

"I prefer Ron."

"Who is neither. But, hey, there is no accounting for taste said the old woman as she kissed the cow."

"See, it's bad enough you're insulting Ron all the time. I didn't want Junior talking about Ron and saying he's better than Ron."

"He probably is."

"No he's not. Junior is an egotistical idiot who only thinks about himself."

"As compared with Ron who once had you watch him play the giant claw machine for three hours."

"That's a cheap shot."

"But it's true."

"I'm sorry I told you that. Look, I don't like your comments about Ron. I didn't want more comments from Junior… Maybe he would have threatened Ron, I don't know. But when Junior gets an idea he doesn't drop it. I didn't want to spend this whole mission saying 'no', so I figured tell him I'm a lesbian and he'll leave me alone. If you think Junior is a good catch you can date him."

Shego shuddered, "No thanks. But why did you drag me into this? Mention some girlfriend back in Middleton."

"He doesn't know any of my friends in Middleton."

"Well, duh, that's why one of them would have been perfect. Who was that one chick you mentioned, Monique?"

"Okay, okay. I wasn't thinking… I'll count this as your good deed."

"Count what as my good deed?"

"Don't tell Junior the truth until we find his dad."

"I don't have to kiss you or anything, do I?"

"No."

"Good, 'cause I'd kick you in the nuts if you tried anything."

"You were the one who was saying I should tell my mother we were lovers that time, just to shock her."

"I was joking with you!"

"Well, it was the thing that popped into my head when I wanted to discourage him. I'm still blaming you for putting the idea in my head in the first place."

The green woman actually chuckled at the memory. "Okay, you're right. It's actually kind of funny. You'd have to be as dense as Junior to believe a story like that. At least no one else will hear about it. Oh, you sleep on the couch. I'm afraid if you try to share the bed you'll jump me during the night."

"We can share the bed. We're both safe. What side do you want?"

"Left."

"Okay. I'm going to turn on the… I think they call it the telly here."

"No, we're going out to Harrods. What's the point of the expense account if we don't buy some things? You can facilitate first."

Kim emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, "Your turn."

As Shego stood up her cell phone went off with a vaguely familiar tune.

Kim looked puzzled, "I should recognize that… What is it?"

The older woman blushed, "It's 'O Canada'. Canadian National Anthem, Joe's ring tone." She pushed the button to talk. "Hello," she purred in a voice that made Kim grin.

"Yes." … "London actually, doing something legitimate for a change." … Shego frowned, "All right, I'm not sure if I'm flattered you keep a Google search running on me or if it makes you a creepy stalker." … "WHAT!" Shego glared at Kim, "Your stupid story about us being lovers is on the Internet."

Kim couldn't believe it, "WHAT!"

"Who am I talking to? Kim Possible is–" … "No, we are not lovers." … "Listen, I– Hold on a minute," Shego looked at Kim, "Go into the bathroom until I tell you to come out, this is a private conversation."

"What am I supposed to do in the bathroom?"

"I don't care. Contemplate your sins if you want– Oh, that's right, you don't have any."

"I–"

Shego waved Kim in the direction of the bathroom.

The conversation went on a long time. Kim was reflecting on the lack of any reading matter – or a comfortable place to sit – for the one hundred and seventeenth time when Shego rapped sharply on the door twice, "You can come out now, Princess."

"It had to be Lucre."

"Duh, that's obvious."

"Joe didn't think…" Kim began.

"I don't think so. My sharing a hotel room with you sounded a little strange, under the circumstances, but he believes me."

"I'm glad. It's like we were saying. Who believes what they read on the Internet?"

"And the answer is most of the world. People are dumb. You'll have people bringing it up to you as soon as you get back to Middleton, count on it."

Kim groaned, "Bonnie Rockwaller."

"Who?"

"Bonnie Rockwaller… Sort of a junior version of you – only with fewer redeeming qualities. She'll print it off and have it up on my locker… She'll print off a ton of copies and tape them up on everyone's locker."

"See, it would have been easier just to kick Junior in the nuts. Now let me use the bathroom and then we're going to Harrods."

"You're still speaking to me after the way I messed up?"

"Hey, no one's perfect… Except me, of course. Besides, I may need another woman's opinion. Joe was so supportive I want to buy something really nice for him."

"A fly fishing rod?"

"I'm thinking more of a filmy little negligee."

"But he…" Kim blushed. "Oh…"

Shego winked at Kim, "Figured it out, huh? Trust me, he'll love it."

At Harrods Kim had a couple small purchases she needed to make. She felt slightly guilty about putting the items on the expense account. She attempted to assuage her conscience by buying the cheapest versions she could find. Before she could find a sales clerk Shego found Kim and pulled her to another department. "I need your opinion."

Shego held up something very short, and very, very sheer in black, "What'a you think?"

"That's scandalous!"

"That good, huh? How about in green? They have it in green."

Kim thought a minute. "Black."

"How about this one. Feel this, it's silk." Shego thrusting a box holding something made with a green fabric at Kim.

"That's wonderful," Kim seconded, running her hand over the material.

Shego took the second negligee out of the box and held it up in front of herself. It was long and not at all transparent, but the thin fabric still looked like it would cling to every curve.

"That one is more sophisticated," Kim said. "I can see you sitting in your room having breakfast and sipping a latte in that one."

"And the first one?"

"It really didn't leave anything to the imagination, did it?"

"Nope. But I happen to have a killer bod. I think I'll take both of these."

"How about something practical if you're going to a ski lodge, something in a heavy flannel."

"What's the fun in that?" Shego looked over and pointed to something almost as sheer as the first nightie she had held up, but with a fuzzy hem at the bottom edge of the short top. "How about that for a cold room at a ski lodge?"

"You're kidding, right? That little fur wouldn't keep you warm."

"It's designed to keep your throat warm."

"Your throat? But it's…" Kim figured out what Shego meant and blushed crimson.

Shego burst out laughing. When she regained control she suggested, "We're on Junior's nickel. Buy yourself a pair of nice silk pajamas as long as we're here."

"But the prices," Kim whispered, seeing some of the tags.

"Go ahead, the Seniors won't think anything about the price."

"No."

"Okay, I'll pick up a pair for you… How about these?" Shego held up something pink and practical.

"I said no."

"Well, I'm buying them for you and putting them on the account."

"I… Okay, if I can't stop you, I like this shade of pink a little better."

The two women chatted on their way back to the hotel. Kim's claim had almost been forgotten when the strains of 'O Canada' were heard once again. Shego handed Kim the Harrods bag and answered the phone with another sultry, "Hello."

The green woman listened a minute and frowned. "What?" … "Dear God, please tell me you're kidding. No… That can't be a joke. What was on YouTube?" … "What was the name of the poster?" … "Well you're a secret agent. Find out who Spyder287 is." … "I'll kill him. Slowly. Why do you ask?" … "No, I was telling you the truth, how can you even ask a question like that?" … "The negligee was for you, you idiot!" … "No, I'd be wearing it. I'd be wearing it for a little while anyway – how long is up to you." … "Yes, really." … "That's better. You just keep that thought in mind until I see you again." There was very long pause while Shego listened. She was purring when she spoke again, "Okay, I'll keep that in mind until I see you again." … "I have to finish this job." ... "No, I'm not sure how long it will last, but I'll head to Canada as soon as I drop Kim and her boyfriend off at Middleton." … "Nothing mushy, kid sister is here." … "Kim." … "No, not really, just an honorary relationship. Anyway, she embarrasses easily. You just imagine some little fantasy that sounds good and maybe when I see you I can make it all come true." … Shego made a kissing sound with her lips, "You too," and hung up.

Kim looked frightened when Shego glanced over at the younger woman, "Please tell me that wasn't what it sounded like."

"What did it sound like?"

"It sounded like someone saw us in Harrods, took a video of us discussing sleepwear, and posted it on the Internet."

"Bingo," Shego muttered. "Got it in one."

"How did Joe see it so fast?"

"I think I told you, he has some Google setting so that if my name comes up on the web he gets an alert. Apparently a lot of people were commenting about you saying we were lovers. The comments were running about seven to two of it being some crazy Internet rumor like Paul McCartney is dead or JFK is alive. And then the video went on YouTube."

"But we weren't doing anything! We were just standing there talking."

"No audio. Spyder wasn't close enough to pick up our voices. Just you, Kim Possible, and me, Shego, looking at sexy negligees in Harrods. Our friend Spyder makes some reference to the rumor going around about us being lovers."

"What are we going to do?" Kim asked.

"I don't know what you're going to do when you get back to Middleton High, but I'm going up to Canada."

"Can you let the paparazzi take some pictures of you and Joe together?"

"International thief and Canadian national security agent? I don't think so. Not good for either of our images."

"I am so dead," Kim muttered.

Shego was thoughtful as they rode the elevator to their room. "Having a video out there isn't good, but videos can be faked."

"You're suggesting I claim the video is a fake?"

"No one will believe you, they'll know you're lying."

"Then I don't know what you're saying," Kim admitted. They entered their room and Kim dropped the bags.

"I'm saying we put out fake videos, a few faked videos of the two of us will make the real video look like a fake also."

"How are we going to get fake videos of the two of us?"

"Duh, the two of us make real fake videos of ourselves."

"Real, fake videos? Of us?"

"Exactly. Helluva lot easier than hiring actresses to do us. Call your bud Wade and explain the problem. We shoot whatever raw footage he wants, then he edits them to make them look bad… Gonna be hard when you look as good as I do… Anyway, voila – no one can trust any footage of the two of us on the Internet."

Kim smiled, "That could work. I'll call Wade now. Sounds great… I, uh, under the circumstances I won't say thanks by giving you a hug."

"That okay, Princess. Under the circumstances I'd find that just a little creepy."

Kim called Wade and set him to work on the idea of real fake videos. After talking to Wade she tried to call Ron. In a New York hotel room a phone went unanswered as Ron competed in the special episode of Chopped. "Hey, Ron. I don't know when you'll be back, but I'm going to bed. Don't call unless it is an emergency, I'm going to turn in – remember the time zone differences. I just wanted to know how things are going. Don't believe anything you see or hear on the Internet!"

Shego called Joe to tell him of the two women's plans and ask if he had any suggestions. The green woman, whose reputation was such she didn't worry much about what other people thought of her went to sleep more easily than Kim. Kim ticked through everyone she knew in her mind. Her family would believe her. Monique would believe her. Bonnie Rockwaller would be a royal pain. Kim wondered if Bonnie had any sort of Google search programmed to alert her to embarrassing news about Kim. The redhead thought it likely.

The meetings with Señor Senior's business associates were disquieting and unhelpful in equal parts. The unhelpful came from the fact none of them had any idea where Señor Senior, Senior, might be. The disquieting part came from the fact they all reported him acting in an unusual manner. Senior was usually the epitome of courtesy in his conversations and willing to take the time to conduct meetings properly – it was more important to do something correctly than to do it in haste.

He had arrived early, called the board together before everyone was properly prepared, shown irritation when things moved slowly, and left quickly after the meeting ended. Everyone agreed it was odd. Several board members had their private theories to share, none of which made any particular sense.

The four searchers picked at their lunches.

"What do we do now?" Junior wanted to know.

"I don't know," Shego grumbled. "You hired me to break heads. Well, you've got to tell me whose head to break. And Princess here just came along to do a good deed."

"And fringe benefits," Lucre snickered.

"Another comment like that and you'll be singing soprano for the rest of your short life," Shego threatened. "Got that? If Junior doesn't know what heads I should break I'm willing to use yours."

"Got it," Lucre promised.

"Someone said something about trying to find out if money was coming out of Senior's account," Kim reminded them.

"I tried," Lucre told her. "But the banks all have encryption like you wouldn't believe, and without account numbers and passwords I can't find anything."

Kim turned to Junior, "Do any of the banks have London branches? Maybe if we explained the problem nicely someone would help us."

"Of course there are London branches," Junior assured her.

"Finish lunch, people," Shego ordered. "We're going to try Red's plan."

"And Shego?" Kim asked.

"Yes."

"Will you let me try the talking nicely?"

"You don't think I can talk nicely?"

"I think you don't have as much practice as I do."

"You can try, Pumpkin. But if your nicely doesn't work we're trying mine."


	8. Running Off at the Mouth

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

**Running Off at the Mouth  
**

Ted Allen raised the lid. Rufus lay asleep on an empty plate, a smile on his plate and his stomach full. The contestants looked puzzled.

"Since this was not a normal edition of Chopped," Ted explained, "we allowed a draw. Chef Flay clearly won the presentation category. The judges were seriously divided on the taste, although they agreed it was close. There was a question as to whether our expectations of Chef Flay made it possible for us to properly assess his dishes in terms of creativity. And for that reason we decided to declare you both winners. You will split the prize money. Chef Flay, what will you do with five thousand dollars?"

"I'd already promised ten thousand to a charity I support. I'll just add a check of my own to the check from you."

"Chef Ron?"

"Uh, would I look bad if I didn't give it to charity?"

"I believe you would look normal. You put up an amazing show and you deserve it."

"I… Man, I wasn't expecting to win anything so I didn't make any plans. Maybe I'll take my girlfriend somewhere nice."

"The three of you?" Alex asked.

"Now that's a disturbing image," Marc commented, looking at Drakken.

"Not him! Not him!" Ron said, realizing what they meant. He pointed at Rufus, "I meant him."

"And I find that an even more disturbing image," Aarón commented.

"Donald's girlfriend and I do not get along," Drakken informed them. "Our current project will end when she gets back into the country."

Alex had a thought and laughed, "Ted?"

"Yes?"

"You said you wanted to see what would happen when average cooks competed on Chopped? I think you failed, I wouldn't count any one of these three as average."

"Good point. I may try again next season."

Stage hands came out to unchain Rose from Bobby Flay and filming ended. There was more conversation before everyone left the studio. Bobby Flay and the judges all invited the pair to stop by one of their restaurants for dinner before they left town, in fact Aarón insisted they eat with him that evening.

It was dark by the time they finished dinner and Ron and Drakken were not entirely certain where they were or how to find the best subway station to take them back to the hotel.

As they walked through streets almost deserted in comparison to the earlier crowds Drakken brought up a business proposition. "Can I borrow some of your five grand?"

"Borrow?"

"I'll pay you back, with interest."

"How much later? What interest?"

"I'm thinking Italy, when I take over the world."

"Excuse me?"

"Italy. It will be all yours when I'm the world ruler."

"I don't know if–"

"It's not enough? Fine, I'll throw in Spain."

"Oh yeah, two countries where the economy is in the toilet."

"You want Austria too? You drive a hard bargain."

"No, I… What do you want the money for?"

"There were some parts I saw at an electronics shop yesterday. I think I can make a really big death ray, bigger than anything Dementor has ever produced."

"Taking over the world is wrong."

"It's my day job. This artistic genius thing is just a hobby. I need those parts."

"Well why don't you buy them with your own money? Why do you need mine?"

"I… um… don't have a credit card."

"You forgot to bring a credit card?"

"I don't have a card. Remember my Visa Platinum was stolen in Beserkistan?"

"And you haven't gotten it replaced?"

"I'm having a dispute with my credit card company. That card was used to purchase an island in the south Pacific. I claim I don't have to pay because the card was stolen. They claim that since I didn't report the loss in twenty-four hours I have to pay the charges."

"We were lost! No phone! There was no way you could call and cancel the card."

"I tell you Rod, bankers are the most evil people in the world. Now, can I borrow some money?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"I won't ask for anything else. Promise."

"I won't help you take over the world."

"I bet I can get you into a strip club."

Ron hesitated a second and Rufus nipped him gently but firmly. "No. Kim would never approve. End of discussion."

The conversation ended. Each of the two was lost in his own thoughts. Drakken felt depressed over the injustice of having a wonderful idea and not being able to procure the parts he felt certain would allow him to take over the world. Ron's mind was elsewhere. No one knew him in New York. He was almost eighteen. What was the age needed to get into a strip club? Would Drakken expect a loan if he brought up the subject? And if he did get into a strip club, or something like that, he was certain the police would raid it, and his picture would be all over the news. His parents would treat him like a leper. Middleton was miles away, no one would know...

As they rounded a corner a shot rang out and a man fell to the sidewalk in front of them. The two froze in horror. The man holding the gun seemed uncertain what to do. Horrified, Ron and Drakken could focus on nothing except the man on the ground and the man holding the gun, but a voice shouted, "What? Get them–"

Drakken and Ron didn't stay to hear the end of the sentence. They turned and ran… They attempted to turn and run, but were still adjusting to the fact of being chained together. Their initial attempt to turn tangled them up, but they were too dedicated to getting away as quickly as possible to let it hold them back.

For a moment Ron forgot the need to not run faster than Drakken and managed to trip them both. Fearful of pursuit they made another error a half block later when Drakken attempted to run around one side of a light pole while Ron ran around the other. They crashed into each other, fell to the ground again, scrambled back to their feet and resumed running.

There was no pursuit.

Back at the 'crime scene' the victim stood and asked, "What happened? I thought I was great."

"Two idiots wandered into the shot just as you fell," the director complained. "Why aren't we doing this on a closed set?"

"Atmosphere," the gunman told him. "You can't do a real New York street on a set."

"All right, get ready for take seven," the director sighed. "I want to get back to my hotel and get some sleep."

Later, as technicians put away the cameras and sound equipment, the star talked with the director, "I recognized those two who wandered into the sixth take."

"And?"

"I met them at a party yesterday. Did you see that video a couple months back, two guys performing for some animal – really funny?"

"Yeah, I… That was them?"

"They're performance artists or something. That's why they're chained together now. I'd like them in the ballroom reception scene."

The director saw no point in a cameo, but keeping the star happy was part of the job. Besides he had to find something for his wife's nephew to do besides fetch coffee. "Larry!"

"Yeah, Boss?" Larry was under strict orders to never refer to the familial relationship when other crew members could hear.

The director was from the Roger Corman school of shoot the film on time, and on budget. Larry had cost him more than a half million dollars in total during the last three films for a range of bizarre accidents. "Johnny wants you to find a couple guys for the reception scene. He'll tell you what he can." If Larry couldn't find Drakken and Ron it was win/win for the director. He'd listened to the star and had Larry out of his hair for a couple days. He crossed his fingers and hoped that in a city the size of New York Larry would not develop a hitherto unseen case of competence.

It was half an hour later when Ron and Drakken found their hotel, more by luck than any rational thought process. They got to their room, locked the door and leaned their backs against it – panting from exertion but starting to feel slightly safe for the first time since witnessing the murder.

"Would this door stop bullets?" Ron asked.

"Probably not."

Feeling slightly less safe they moved into their room to discuss what they should do.

"We've got to go to the police and tell them what we saw," Ron gasped, still catching his breath from the run.

"No we don't," Drakken insisted. "No police."

"But we saw a murder!"

"Did we see the killer? At least well enough to identify him? Could you pick him out of a line-up?"

Ron hesitated, "I thought he looked a little like Johnny Depp."

"Do you think Johnny Depp goes around gunning down people in New York?"

"I didn't say it was him! I said it looked a little like him! It would give the police somewhere to start."

"No. You're not going to the police when you've nothing to tell them."

"But we saw the crime even if we didn't see who the killer was!"

"While Theodore Lipsky is an artistic genius Doctor Drakken is a wanted criminal mastermind. We are not going to the police, are we my accomplice?" Drakken patted Ron on the cheek.

"What are we going to do then?"

"Tomorrow morning we're going to stop at an appliance store so I can buy a microwave."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious? So I can build a death ray."

"I told you, I'm not giving you money for a death ray."

"That was for a big death ray, this will just be a little one – like I built on the show."

"Doc, a death ray is not the answer."

"Well it certainly isn't the question. If I'm going down I want to go down shooting back."

"Well I'd rather not go down at all."

"True. But I want protection."

"No," Ron insisted.

"Why not?"

"Well, to state the obvious, where would we get an extension cord long enough?"

"Hmmm… I hadn't thought of that… Maybe we should go down and steal that battery. It must have enough power for a really intimidating death ray."

"Can you carry a battery that big?"

"Of course not. I'm carrying the death ray. You'll carry the battery."

"I can't carry a battery that big either. No death rays. We have to think of something else."

"We could call Shego and Kim Possible," the blue man suggested.

"No."

"No? You're as bad as Shego. All the two of you do is shoot down my plans."

"If we call them they'll think that we can't handle things by ourselves."

"We can't. That's why I hired Shego, to do the unpleasant things for me. And I count this as a very unpleasant thing."

"She'll call you a coward."

"She does that already."

"She'll call you unmanly."

"I… We could get a hacksaw or bolt cutters and get this chain off of us. Then we can hide however we want and… You don't think Shego would object do you? Or your girlfriend?"

"Shego has an awfully short fuse. But she'd be easier to reason with than gangsters."

"Reason with Shego?"

"Sure, we–"

"The chain stays on. We need to stick together. Partners until the end."

"That's a really lousy expression under the circumstances."

"Yes, Yes it is. Why don't we just stay here and watch television?"

"I'm supposed to see New York and write a paper about it!"

"You'd rather face killers than not write a paper?"

"You don't know Mr. Barkin. You said you'd rather face a killer than Shego?"

"That bad, huh?"

"That bad… Look. I'm sorry I keep saying no. I'll agree to your next plan, whatever it is, as long as it looks like it could keep us safe and doesn't have death rays or calling Kim and Shego. How about disguises or something?"

Drakken thought for a minute, his brow furrowed as he wracked his memory. "Some Like It Hot."

"Some like it cold," Ron replied. "Some like it in the pot nine days old."

"What are you talking about?"

"Isn't that how the nursery rhyme continues? What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the movie, Some Like It Hot, about two people in precisely our situation."

"They were chained together?"

"No, I think that was The Defiant Ones. Some Like It Hot had Marilyn Monroe. Two people see a murder and have to dress like women to hide from the killers."

"Didn't Marilyn Monroe dress like a woman all the time?"

"She wasn't one of the… It was Tony Curtis and someone else. They were musicians and got into an all-girl band or something that had Marilyn Monroe. Then Tony Curtis… Never mind. The point is that if they saw us last night they saw two men. So we go back to the fetish shop and buy women's clothing. Then we can see the town in safety."


	9. Economical with the Truce

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

**Economical with the Truce**

"I really can't help you," the bank's branch manager sneered at Kim.

"But–"

"Good day."

"Now we try my nice, Kim."

"Don't hurt him."

"I'm not going to hurt his face," Shego promised. The bank manager pressed a button summoning security. "We're dealing with a low level toadie here," the green woman explained to Kim. "At this point we go over his head to someone who'll have this guy's skinny ass out on the street in the next twenty minutes – fifteen if we can get high enough in the food chain on our first call. After word gets out that he's a twenty-four carat moron he'll never work in the banking sector again and will be lucky if he can get a job sweeping streets." She turned to the bank manager and gave him an evil smile, "Sorry I can't wish you a good day, loser. Better start packing your desk and stealing your last office supplies. I'm giving you another twenty minutes on this job."

As Shego spoke two security men arrived at the door. The green woman stood and gestured for the other three to stand.

The bank manager stared at her, white-faced and uncertain.

"Do you need us to escort them from the building?" the older of the security men asked.

"I… uh…" the bank manager stammered. "There is a chance I misunderstood their request… I… ah… Go back to your posts right now. I'll, uh, call you if I… I mean, I pressed the button by accident. Sorry for… You responded very promptly. Thank you."

Wondering whether they should actually return to their posts or remain the security men hesitated, then moved away. The older man told the younger to remain a few meters away, out of the line of sight of the office, and be ready if things got loud.

"If you could explain your request again," the manager asked, "I'll see what I can do."

"No," Shego told him. "First I explain the threat. This guy's father," she pointed at Junior, "is Señor Ricardo Senior, Senior. He has a boatload of money in your bank. He's also missing, and Junior here is a dutiful son and hired the three of us to find his dad. We're asking for your help. You don't help us and little Ricky will tell dad to pull everything out of this bank unless they fire you. If anything has happened to dad Junior here will inherit it all, and Junior won't be very happy with you either. Is that clear?"

"But I can't help you! It would be a breach of my fiduciary trust!"

"You can't try and help save a man's life? Oh, that publicity will look great too when they fire you."

"The Senior account has a note on it. Other than the one limited credit card we issued I can't reveal account numbers, passwords, or anything about the money to anyone."

"Not even his son?"

"Actually, the note says 'especially not to his son'."

Shego turned to Junior and chuckled, "Dad was really hacked when you signed everything over to Vinnie Wheeler, wasn't he?"

"Anyone could have made the mistake! Why are there so many dishonest people in the world?"

"We don't need to have the account numbers or passwords," Kim broke in. "What we need is information on whether there has been any activity on any of the accounts in the last four days. Have any cards been used, or cash withdrawn? And if so, where? What was purchased?"

"I told you, I can't give out information like that!"

"Told you he was a toadie," Shego reminded Kim. "Time to find someone who wants to help one of the bank's largest depositors, and time for this branch office to find a new manager."

"I want to help the bank's depositors. We're here to serve." He managed to say it with a straight face, although the joke brought laughter from Shego.

"Then help us locate him. We don't need account information, we just need to know if there has been activity and when and where."

The manager hesitated. "I want ID showing this is his son."

"I know who I am," Junior protested.

"He's being fair," Kim assured him. "He's going to help us."

"He's helping himself, Pumpkin. Don't forget it," Shego told her.

After verifying Junior's identity the manager adjusted his monitor so the four could not see it, and began typing.

"How far did you want me to go back," he asked Kim, "Three days?"

"Make it a week," Shego suggested.

"Does seem to be moving around," the man muttered as charges appeared on his screen." He looked at a couple addresses. "A week ago there were purchases at familiar locations, then we have a number of charges in Chicago."

"Chicago was a philanthropic trip," Kim explained.

"Airline ticket to Venice?"

"What? He bought a ticket to Venice here in London?"

"No, there is a charge for… When did he leave Chicago?"

Junior told him.

"The ticket was Chicago to Venice… Let me pull up another card here… What was this about London?"

"My father came to London after his trip to the United States," Junior told him. "He used our private plane. He arrived in your city four days ago and behaved in a manner most uncharacteristic of his usual behavior."

The manager frowned as he stared at the screen, "While your father was in London someone used one of his cards in Venice."

"Were you in Venice?" Shego asked Junior.

"Not recently. The night life is terrible in the city."

"Old charges," Lucre asked, "just showing up now?"

"These are recent charges."

"Can you get the name on the airline ticket from Chicago to Venice?" Kim asked.

"No, I just have the charge information. The airline would have the information."

"Oh, wait... Here's another airline ticket, London to Venice. That was three days ago."

"I think we should assume Senior is in Venice," Lucre said.

"Or tied up in a basement here in London and the ticket is a red herring."

Red herrings reminded Junior of yellow trout, and he looked at Kim and sighed mournfully.

Trying to make a positive impression on the man who would inherit the Senior millions the manager told them, "I hear Venice is beautiful this time of year."


	10. Speak Softly and Carry a Big Purse

Boilerplate Disclaimer: Characters from the Kim Possible series are owned by Disney. All registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

**Speak Softly, and Carry a Big Purse  
**

In a state of terror Ron and Drakken snuck out of their hotel the next morning. Despite their vigilance they missed two art students who had staked out the hotel and began filming them.

"I don't know about this, Steve," the girl told him.

"C'mon, Cyn. You saw how many hits they had on their first video."

"But that was real, it showed that everywhere on earth is on the web."

"That wasn't what they were doing. But millions saw that. If even half that many watch my video it'll be the widest my work has been seen."

"But they're doing their own thing. You're trying to ride their stuff rather than doing your own."

"Their thing is the chain. My thing is film. If they had someone filming them I'd back off… Hey, maybe they wanted someone to film them. Maybe I'm doing what they wanted someone to do."

Ron and Drakken returned to Fetishes-R-Us in the village.

"I'm thinking of an elderly maiden aunt theme," Drakken told Ron as he looked at purses.

"No heels," Ron warned. "In case we need to run."

"No one will recognize us… But I don't think my calves could take heels."

"You want a corset too?" Ron asked.

"This elderly maiden aunt has stopped worrying about her figure… Should I buy a veil?"

"Are you in mourning or trying to hide your face?"

"Will you please remember the reason we're dressing in women's clothing is to hide?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure, you have the perfect face for a veil."

"Thank you, I… That wasn't funny."

With their arms filled with items to try on they went into adjoining dressing rooms.

"Whoa, starting to wish I hadn't picked up the corset," Ron told Drakken.

"What's the problem?"

"Don't know if I can run wearing this, it squeezes my stomach up into my lungs."

Fifteen minutes later Drakken felt ready to face the world. "I need more time," Ron told him when the blue man asked how much longer he needed. "I'm still putting on my makeup… I think I've got on too much eye shadow, I look cheap."

"The tour of Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty starts in forty minutes."

"Okay, I'll leave on the shadow. Just give me another minute – I've never put on lipstick before."

"I think I'll go with Dorthea," Drakken said a Ron finished primping. "You can call me Aunt Dorthy… Or even Aunt Dot."

"Veronica," Ron told him. "You can call me Ronnie."

"Rhonda, check," Drakken told him.

"No, Ronnie, I… What's the use. Okay, I'll answer to Rhonda."

"Are you ready, Rhoda?"

Ron sighed, "Yes," and emerged from the dressing room.

Drakken frowned, "Something's wrong," and tried to adjust Ron's chest.

"Dude, don't touch my boobs," the teen objected. "Ya know; that's a sentence I didn't think would ever come out of my mouth."

"You're lop-sided."

"I picked 'em up in the irregular bin. They were cheaper."

"And way too big. I mean, this side is a generous normal and this side is like surgically enhanced."

"Maybe I could only afford to pay for one side at a time. Besides the point is to not be recognized."

"You'll draw attention that big!"

"But who'll be looking at my face?"

"Fine, you're the one who needs to see New York. If you want to look like a cheap tramp that's your concern. But don't expect me to tell you if your shoe's untied."

"Hey, I don't need you to tell me if," Ron looked down. "Okay, maybe Rufus can tell me."

Rufus twined some artificial flowers through the chain as they paid for the purchases and left the store to catch the tour boat.

At the Coffee Being across the street Cynthia nudged Steve, "They're leaving."

"What're you talking about? That's two women."

"That's them, you idiot. They probably saw you and are trying to throw you off."

"Or maybe they're kicking things up a notch… We'll need to be more careful."

While adults ignored the pair on the subway a small girl stared at them. "Why are you tied to her?" she asked Veronica.

"My aunt's a little forgetful," Ron told the girl, "so my mother wants me to make sure she doesn't wander off."

"God will get you for that, Valerie," Drakken hissed after the little girl returned to her mother.

Larry, from Mammoth Pictures, questioned Professor LeTourne and got the names of art students who might know where Ron and Drakken were staying.

At Ellis Island the two discovered they each had an ancestor who had come over on the same ship. "You know, if they had met and gotten married we could have been relatives," Ron pointed out.

"Given the size of the ship they probably met," Drakken told him. "But since they were both women I think it unlikely they would have had children."

On Bedloe's Island there are three hundred and fifty-four steps from the ground to the viewing area in the crown of the Statue of Liberty. Drakken and Ron began to understand the rhythm necessary for walking up narrow stairways about the time they reached step three hundred and twenty-seven. Going down required a slightly different rhythm from going up. Steve managed to catch the learning experience on film.

They received three interesting propositions while visiting Times-Square, and a warning from a policeman that the mayor wanted to keep the city moral – so they should take their business elsewhere.

The reduced tickets for Avenue Q at New World Stages weren't available at the TKTS booth. Instead the theater cut out the middleman and had their own representative near the line snaking in to buy tickets to Broadway and off-Broadway productions.

"Ah, rats," Ron moaned. "No offense, Rufus."

"What's the problem?"

"Christy Carlson Romano was in Avenue Q for awhile, but not any more."

"And who is Christy Carlson Romano?"

"She's this actress who sounds a lot like Kim."

"Are you sure Kim doesn't sound a lot like Christy Romano?"

"That's an interesting question… How does that work?"

"I'm not certain. That's a question for a philosopher."

"They'd know the right answer?"

"They don't have any right answers. Just assume the opposite of whatever they tell you is correct. Can you trust anyone who thinks a degree in philosophy will find them a job?"

"Good point."

"I'm just glad your Christy Romano is gone. I do not like the sound of Kim's voice."

After purchasing their tickets they returned to their hotel to get ready for the night. Under the circumstances they had been hesitant to visit public restrooms while touring.

Ron spent a long time in the bathroom, and Drakken an equally long time standing outside the closed door to the bathroom. "What is taking you so long?" the blue man complained.

"Make-up. Now I know why girls aren't ready when the guy gets there for a date."

"We're not going on a date!"

"I still want to look my best."

"Just hurry up. You're doing too much primping."

"Rufus wanted me to shave my legs."

"He what?"

"Wanted me to shave my legs."

"Why?"

"He thought I should wear the short skirt."

"You bought a short skirt?"

"Well, duh, why do you think Rufus wanted me to shave my legs? Don't worry; I'll wear the navy slacks… Do you have any perfume I can borrow?"

"No, I don't have any perfume you can borrow."

"Was that, 'no, I don't have any perfume' or 'I have perfume, but you can't borrow it'?"

"I don't have any perfume. Period."

"Fine. But I'm going to smell like Mennen® Speed Stick."

"I don't care what you smell like, I… Check the complimentary toiletries. We need to leave."

"Just don't start humming 'I Feel Pretty'," Drakken warned Ron as they walked to the subway.

"Hum I feel pretty? I don't get it."

"It's a song. 'I Feel Pretty' is from… It's either Flower Drum Song or West Side Story. The other one has 'I Enjoy Being a Girl'. Don't start humming that either."

"Flower Drum Song? West Side Story? Why do I never know what you're talking about?"

"Because you don't know the classics. Those movies are classics. Everyone knows them."

"So if I don't know them, they can't be classics?"

"You don't know them because you don't pay attention. People who are culturally educated know them."

"Who watches old movies? They were probably silent or something."

"They were musicals."

"Silent musicals seem like a good idea. I still say they can't be classics if I haven't heard of them."

"Bah… You don't know– Is Shakespeare a classic writer?"

"Shakespeare?"

"Please tell you you've heard of Shakespeare."

"Yeah, I've heard of Shakespeare. This is a trick question, isn't it?"

"Of course it's a trick question. Everyone knows Shakespeare is classic. So, name his plays. If you can't name his plays it proves you are culturally ignorant."

"Hey, I can name his plays! Everyone knows his stuff."

"Okay then, name them."

"There was, uh, Romeo and Juliet, and… Uh, there's Hamlet. That's the other one. See I know what Shakespeare wrote."

"You think that's all he wrote?"

"Well, if he wrote more and you're culturally smart can you name them?"

"I…"

"Bet you a dollar you can't name them. If you can't name them either you have no business making fun of me."

"I'll take that bet. He also wrote Macbeth. There. Oh, and Kiss Me Kate."

"Kiss Me Kate?"

"It's a comedy. Cole Porter wrote the score."

"I owe you a buck," Ron grumbled. "I didn't think you could name them all."

On their way back from the musical they agreed that 'The Internet Is for Porn' was the most memorable song.

"But you can't whistle it," Drakken complained. "Second best, 'Everyone's a Little Bit Racist'."

"'Racist'? It was fun," Ron argued, "But 'It Sucks to Be Me' was better."

Unable to convince the other about his choice for second best song they compromised on 'There's a Fine, Fine Line' in the number two spot and decided to pass on naming the song in the number three position.

The desk clerk thought he recognized the pair when they came in. "Mr. Lipsky? Mr. Stoppable?"

"Yes?"

"Someone stopped by for you."

"Art student?" Drakken asked.

"Someone from the Food Channel?" Ron wanted to know. "Beautiful redhead?"

"He really didn't say much, but he didn't look like an art student. He said his name was Larry, and that he came to tell you his uncle, the boss, was looking for you."

"Uncle? The Boss?" Ron croaked. "Is that anything like a Godfather who's the boss?"

"Probably," Drakken agreed, sweat-induced fear making a sheen on his forehead.

"He left a message. Let me get it for you." The clerk turned to the mail boxed behind the front desk. When he turned back around Ron and Drakken had vanished.


	11. The Moment of Truce

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney. All registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

**The Moment of Truce**

Drakken's hovercraft lacked sufficient instrumentation to make night flying safe so team Senior spent the night in the south of France. Shego insisted Junior take the group out to a nice restaurant for dinner, and pointed out that she and Kim needed appropriate evening gowns for the meal – to be added to the expense account.

At the end of the meal Kim suggested they return to the hotel as quickly as possible rather than lingering over coffee and dessert. Shego backed Kim up on the suggestion, knowing the redhead wanted to get an early start on the search of Señor Senior, and feeling vaguely proud of herself for asking Kim to join the team and proud of her 'little sister' for being so responsible.

_"Those two just want to hop into bed,"_ Lucre thought. "I think I'll have something else."

"We're leaving at dawn," Shego warned. "And if you're not up you can kiss any money or hope of a job goodbye."

"Of course there is something to be said for a good eight hours of sleep," Lucre agreed.

They remained in touch with the bank manager in London. Helping one of the bank's largest depositors was good business. He gave them the name of the first hotel where one of Señor Senior's credit cards had been used. It had obviously not been used by Senior; who was attending his hurriedly called business meeting in London at the time.

The desk clerk refused to divulge any information to Shego. The green woman was getting ready to threaten him with bodily harm, and Kim getting ready to stop Shego from hurting the man for doing his job, when Lucre came in with news. Twenty Euros, slipped to the bell captain, produced the information that an American woman, attractive, probably in her mid to late forties, had arrived at the proper time to be user of the card. He reported that she had checked out of the hotel two days after arriving. The bell captain did not know her name, but provided enough of a description to narrow it down to approximately eleven million women in Europe and the US.

"But you don't know it was her," Shego snarled, unhappy about Lucre discovering information of potential value without her ordering him to do it.

"Ticket purchased, Chicago to Venice. Chicago's in America," Lucre reminded her smugly. "Churchy le feam."

"I think he means _cherchez la femme_," Junior suggested. "But who… Francis, could the Rotelli family have an American branch that you overlooked?"

"No, not possible," Lucre told him, sweat dripping from his palms. He could have missed someone. It would have been easy enough to miss someone. The Rotellis had connections in many countries. "Women who might have it in for your father? Widows of men who your father beat in business? Jilted lover?"

Junior shook his head no. Lucre turned to Kim. "It would take someone with a lot of brains and muscle to take on Senior. Can you think of women villains who could do it?"

Kim had already been thinking. "There just aren't a lot of women criminals like–"

"I resent that," Shego interrupted. "And it's sexist too."

"You don't count," Kim snorted. "And–"

"And why don't I count?"

"You're not a villain on your own. You work for Drakken. You're hired muscle and–"

"And you're damn close to a broken nose."

"You didn't do it," Kim told her firmly. "You're too young, remember?" Shego opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and let Kim continue. "I'm just talking from my own experience. Most of the villains I've met are men. DNAmy… I'm not even sure if she counts as a villain – more of an ethically challenged geneticist. Summer Gale nearly caused a disaster, but that was a publicity gimmick gone wrong."

"Never heard of her," Shego muttered.

"You wouldn't have. Adrena Lynn had a show on television with fake stunts. When I exposed her she got nasty and kidnapped someone, but she wouldn't have done anything with Senior. Camille Leon…"

"I know Camille," Junior commented. "We attend some of the same parties. But she is too young."

"She also has the ability to look like anyone," Kim said. "Did you know that?"

Junior shook his head no.

"She is also broke," Kim commented. "A fact she tries to keep hidden; and she's willing to steal to maintain her lifestyle."

"But why would she do anything to my father?" Junior wanted to know.

"I can think of a couple billion reasons," Shego told him. "Sounds like there is no particular reason to suspect her. But Camille would have a motive, she moves in circles that might give her an opportunity, and as far as description she…" Shego turned to Kim, "She can really look like anyone?"

"Yeah, pretty much. I don't know how much control she has in terms of size, and of course her clothing doesn't change, but she can make herself transform to look like anyone."

"Makeup?" Lucre asked.

"She really changes," Kim told him. "Some kind of nanobots or something. It was a kind of cosmetic experiment gone wild. I've had trouble with her a couple times. We need to decide on some passwords for identification purposes – just in case."

The London bank manager had another hotel in Venice with charges to Senior's account, and a very expensive restaurant nearby. The maitre d' at the restaurant was shown a photo of Señor Senior and had a description of the woman who had eaten with him, which tallied what the description from the bell captain. Junior had a feeling of excitement, certain his father would soon be rescued. And Shego began to suspect that this whole mission was going to go terribly, terribly wrong.

"It sounded like the two of them were just here, eating," Lucre pointed out. "Are you sure there's a problem?"

"Father never goes anywhere without telling me where he is going and what he will be doing," Junior answered. "I have not heard from him in days. He can only be the greatest of peril in such a situation."

"We need someone in the lobby of the hotel," Kim pointed out. "If he's a captive we don't know if how many people at the hotel might be working with whoever is holding him."

"Well, I cannot sit in the lobby," Junior protested. "I am too well known. And you, Kim Possible, and you, Shego, are also famous." He turned to Francis Lurman, "You must serve as lookout. Let us know if you see my father. Look for women matching the description we have been given."

"We don't know how big a gang it might be," Kim warned Lucre, "don't try anything heroic."

"Me?" Lucre gasped, Kim's warning suddenly making him feel like he might be in danger. "Don't worry, I won't try anything heroic."

Unsure how long they might have to wait the other three found a nearby hotel.

"I do not wish to stay here," Junior sniffed. "It does not meet Senior standards."

"We're not spending the night, blockhead," Shego growled. "It's close. When we get a call from Lucre we can be there in three minutes."

"But Seniors have a reputation to uphold!"

"You have a father to rescue," Kim reminded him.

"Family honor means everything to my father. It is already bad enough that our arch-foe, Kim Possible, will be used in his rescue. He will be deeply mortified to–"

"Just shut up," Shego growled. "You're giving me a headache."

Junior shut up.

Junior watched television, Shego paced, and Kim read a novel for her American Literature class as they waited. It was more than three hours before Lucre called.

"He says we should come immediately," Junior told the women.

"Why? What did he see?" Kim asked

"What did you see?" Junior asked over the phone.

Junior's brow furrowed. "He is very vague in his answer," he replied to Kim.

"Maybe he's in trouble. Or maybe he's worried about who might hear him in the lobby," Kim suggested. "Let's move."

Lucre confirmed Kim's suggestion of being worried that some of the gang might be around the lobby when the other three arrived. "Your dad came in just before I called," he told Junior. "He and the woman got on that elevator and went up to the top, eighteenth floor."

"Was anyone else with them?" Kim asked.

"Just the two of them."

Junior was excited, "We must rescue him! Let us take the elevator."

"They could have someone watching the elevator on the top floor," Kim warned. "Better use the stairs."

"Stairs?" Lucre said, turning pale. "Eighteen floors?"

"You can try growing wings and flying," Shego suggested.

"I'll stay in the lobby and watch your backs," Lucre suggested. "Besides," he added pointing at Shego, "she was hired to break heads. I was hired to do computer work. Just watching here in the lobby makes me nervous."

"Please, we must hurry," Junior urged.

Shego shook her head, exasperated. "Fine. But if Princess here says stairs we use the stairs."

"How do we find what room he's in?" Kim asked Shego about the seventh floor.

"There won't be many rooms at the top," the green woman pointed out. "I'll just open doors until we find him."

"Open… doors… how…" Junior gasped. He could last for hours on a dance floor, but stairs were an exercise to which he was unaccustomed.

"I'm a thief, remember?" she pointed out. "I have picks for conventional locks, and a wonderful doohickey for electronic."

The door at the top of the stairs was designed to keep thieves from climbing the stairs and entering the top floor, but it had not been designed to keep Shego out. There was no difficulty finding which room was being used. The entire top floor was comprised of the penthouse suite. The green woman realized more strongly than ever this mission was a mistake. All hell was about to break loose, but as long she got paid she'd just try to enjoy it as much as possible – and stay out of the way of the fireworks.

"Open the door," Junior whispered.

"You're sure that's what you want?" Shego asked.

"Of course. We must save my father."

Kim found Shego's reluctance odd. Shego didn't seem to mind a good fight, and Kim felt certain the two of them were capable of handling any kind of challenge.

Shego worked quietly, and eased the door of the suite open. The entryway was huge – large enough that the white grand piano in one corner could almost have been overlooked. One open door to the left showed a conference room. To the right was a dining area, with a kitchen visible beyond.

The three who had broken into the suite were absolutely quiet. Noise came from behind one of the closed doors, some sort of physical activity. "Father!" Junior shouted and ran for the door, certain his father was being tortured. Kim kept pace, ready to face whatever waited behind the door.

Shego chuckled softly and stayed in the antechamber. Amusing as it might be to see this first-hand there were times when keeping a low profile was more appropriate.

Junior didn't bother with the knob, he hit the door hard with his shoulder, splintering the latch and door jam.

The man and woman in bed did not appear in need of rescue. She grabbed a sheet and pulled it over herself and Señor Senior. It is not clear which of the four might have been most surprised by Kim and Junior's sudden appearance.

"Father?"

"Junior?"

"Kim Possible?"

"Dr. Renton?"

Under the circumstances Senior did a remarkable job of keeping his voice calm as he told Junior, "I suggest you leave the room now, my son."

Junior appeared incapable of moving at the moment. Kim, red-faced with embarrassment, grabbed his shirt and pulled him backward. In the antechamber they found Shego rolling on the floor, laughing hysterically.

"You knew," Kim spat in an angry voice.

"I suspected," Shego chuckled.

* * *

Things were understandably tense for the six as they sat at the restaurant that evening.

"… technology used in Felix's wheelchair to help others. But bringing the cost of manufacturing low enough to make mass production feasible was going to take research. I presented it more as an investment opportunity than an actual grant or charity at the Chicago conference," Dr. Renton explained.

"I found her proposal most interesting," Senior explained. "It promised both a monetary return if production was practical, and also benefited those in need of greater mobility. I asked her to dinner that evening to discuss further details."

"But he was leaving for London the next day," Dr. Renton continued. "He suggested we continue the discussion in Venice after his business meeting."

Shego pressed her lips together firmly to keep from smiling, she was unaccustomed to hearing the activity in the bedroom described as discussion. Although some people did count it as business.

"But why did you not call me and let me know of your plans?" Junior protested.

"Parents must, in time, learn to let their children make decisions for themselves, my son. Children should show their parents equal consideration in making decisions for themselves."

"You could have called me," Junior repeated.

"Under the circumstances you should have called me," his father pointed out.

Three pairs of eyes were focused on Junior, "You said you called him," Shego growled.

"I said no such thing. Father does not like to be disturbed. I said I called the hotel in London and they said he had checked out."

Kim's voice was raised in disbelief, "You thought he had been kidnapped, and you didn't even try to call?"

"I told you, he does not like to be disturbed. He always tells me of his plans. So when he did not call it could only mean he had been kidnapped."

"My son, I appreciate your love for me, and the fact that when you felt I was in danger you assembled a most formidable team for my rescue. But should similar circumstances arise in the future you have my permission to call me."

"I still get paid, right?" Lucre demanded.

"Of course," Shego assured him. "Junior wouldn't dream of stiffing me and my assistant here."

Dr. Renton spoke to Kim, "I would, um, appreciate it if you didn't mention anything to Felix."

Shego spoke quickly, before Kim had a chance to answer, "Of course she won't say anything. She's too nice. But I have a question, did you just crawl in the sack with Senior here to improve your chances for funding, or did he hint at funding in hopes of getting you into bed?"

Senior and Dr. Renton glanced nervously at each other. Before either could say anything Shego grabbed Kim by the shoulder and whispered, "Let's get out of here before the fight starts."

"That wasn't nice," Kim said softly as the two left the restaurant.

"Hey, I'm not a nice person, remember?" Shego reminded her as they walked to their hotel. "I'm angry. Senior was too busy making whoopee to give Junior a call. I've had days of that idiot Junior, and Lucre is even more annoying. Kim Possible announces to the world that we're–"

"I did not announce it to the world!"

"You announced it to Lucre, which is the same thing. And we'll need to shoot some videos for your buddy to doctor before I can head to Canada for some R and R. The only way things could get worse is for these damn pigeons to take a crap on me." Shego aimed a kick at one of the birds looking for crumbs on the Venice street.

Accustomed to dodging the feet of tourists the startled bird, and its brethren, took flight, making Shego's day even worse.


	12. Talk the Talk, Run the Walk

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are owned by Disney. All registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

**Talk the Talk, Run the Walk  
**

Ron and Drakken moved a bed in their hotel room to block the door.

"Why did we do that?" Ron asked as they stepped back to admire the job they'd done. "Aren't we going to pack our stuff and get out of here?"

"Of course not, that's what they want us to do. They're probably waiting outside."

"But they know this is our hotel."

"But they know we won't stay, so we stay and confuse them."

"Why do they know they won't stay?"

"They left us a note," Drakken reminded Ron, "so obviously they think we'll leave."

"But why leave us a note at all? Wouldn't it just be easier to watch for us in the lobby or something."

"They're ordinary criminals – not very bright. Fortunately you're chained to an evil genius. We'll stay two steps ahead of them. First, they want us to panic and run into the street – but we will remain calm and in control… Please, let me make a death ray."

"No. You said two steps ahead of them."

"Right. Second, they couldn't have penetrated our disguises. We're perfectly safe."

"Then why did we move the bed in front of the door?"

"That was your idea, remember?"

"Nope. My idea was grab our stuff and find a different hotel, remember?"

"I knew we'd be safe here!"

"I wanted to leave!"

"Maybe Rufus suggested barricading the door."

"Maybe," Ron agreed cautiously.

The mole rat gave the two men a look of disgust, "Nuh-huh."

Neither man slept well that night, although neither admitted it to the other in the morning.

Ron again spent too much time in the bathroom putting on makeup, and wondering if he should have purchased a bosom with more balance, even if it cost more.

"Hurry up," Drakken called from outside the bathroom door. "You're the one who needs to see the city for his paper."

"False eyelashes are a pain. Go watch TV or something."

Drakken jerked the leg with the chain to remind Ron of their limited mobility.

Steve had been in the lobby, hiding with his camera behind a potted plant and enduring Cynthia's comments in regard to his intelligence, for more than an hour when Drakken and Ron emerged from the elevator.

"Quiet!" he shushed Cyn, "they're still in character." He started filming. Actually he turned on the camera and started digitally recording. He vaguely wondered if a new verb would need to be invented now that film was out of fashion. His parents told him there was a reason people spoke of dialing a phone, although he could not remember the story behind the word dial. There was a soap called Dial, but he was almost positive it had nothing to do with telephones.

"We are absolutely safe," Drakken told Ron confidently. "We can walk right out the front door… Of course, if you want to sneak out through the kitchen I can understand your fears."

"I'm fine. You're sure we're safe going out the front?"

"Absolutely. I don't think any less of you for wanting to sneak out the back."

"If you say we're safe going out the front, let's go out the front."

"I'm just trying to be sensitive to your feelings," the blue man told him. "I'm willing to go out the back door so you don't have to think about gangsters lying in wait out there, ready to gun us down the moment we step out the door. Leaving our bullet-riddled corpses in pools of–"

"Fine," Ron sighed. "We can go out the back."

"I'm only thinking of you. I don't think any less of you for being frightened."

As the two headed for the rear of the lobby Larry entered the front and headed for the desk, "Larry Stone, Mammoth Pictures. I left a note yesterday afternoon for Lipsky and Stoppable – did they pick it up?"

"Night clerk told them they had a message, but they rushed off before he could give it to them. I was going to give it to them."

"Damn… So, they're still here?"

"I just saw them… I think they headed for the restaurant in the back." The desk clerk pointed the way, "That young man, the one with the camera, is heading that direction. Follow him to the restaurant."

Larry walked quickly in the direction of Steve and Cynthia, hoping to join the performance artists at breakfast. Once through the door of the Flavor Emporium, the hotel's small coffee-shop, he looked around for the two men chained together who had been described to him. It made no sense that he couldn't see them, they'd have used their own bathroom before they came down for breakfast. Meanwhile, the young woman and man with the camera were trying to go through the service door into the kitchen.

"Hey, you can't go back there," the waiter told them, barring the door.

"You just let those two guys go through," Steve protested.

"Those two women?"

"Yeah. Let us through."

"They're guests. You–"

Steve, wanting to follow Drakken and Ron, pushed the waiter aside and went in pursuit. Cynthia followed to let Steve know he was an idiot for pushing the waiter aside.

_"Guys? Women? Guests?"_ Larry had no idea what was happening, or who the women were. But he was looking for two men who were guests at the hotel, and two men who were guests at the hotel had just gone out the back. This was his chance to make uncle Kent proud of him. One of the college students looked familiar, and he took that as promising.

The waiter was pushed to the side again as Larry ran in pursuit. Out on the street Larry discovered that the college students were trying to remain unseen by the pair they were following. The pair they were following were women, but they were chained together like the men he was supposed to find. The college students had said they were following men. Larry's head hurt. He got out his cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Uncle Kent? It's me, Larry."

"Whatah ya want?"

"I think I… Mr. Depp said two men chained together. I'm following two women chained together–"

"And what am I going to tell your mother when you get busted? Stop it."

"No, they may be the men Mr. Depp wanted."

"You just said they were two women."

"I'm not sure. What should I do? Is there any good way to ask a woman if she's a guy in drag?"

The director thought fast. If Larry asked a woman if she was a man in drag, and it was a woman, he might end up in the hospital. While that would solve the immediate problem his wife and sister-in-law would never speak to him again. And if they were the two men the director had promised the star to fit into a scene... "No way. Just follow them… Don't make it obvious you're following. Stay out of sight. Don't say a word to them until you're absolutely, completely certain they're guys."

"Talk to them then?"

"No, call me then for more advice." _"We should have the reception scene in the can by tonight. I can't believe Larry might have found them."_

"New York is a great cultural center," Drakken told Ron. "There are many world famous art museums. You should–"

"Art museums, like in, paintings and stuff?"

"That is what one customarily finds in an art museum."

"Pass. I did my duty at the gallery."

"You're the one writing the paper on New York."

"I've ridden the subway, we saw Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty. Last night we saw a Broadway play."

"Off-Broadway. It was not a Broadway production."

"It'll be a Broadway show when I write my paper. It sounds better."

Drakken sighed, "So, what else do you want in your paper?"

"I don't know… Think there're any home games? There must be something to do in New York. Did any historical stuff happen here?"

"Yes, there–"

"Empire State Building!"

"Excuse me?"

"The Empire State Building is in New York, right? Wasn't it, like, the tallest building in the world or something once?"

"Yes, but–"

"Why don't we see that?"

"Coney Island, the Brooklyn Bridge, the United Nations, first capital of the United States, the Harlem Renaissance, Central Park… Does any of that mean anything to you?"

"What language are you speaking?"

"There is more to New York, Horatio, than is dreamt of in your philosophy."

"So now you're calling me Horatio?"

"That's a line from Shakespeare. We were talking about him the other day, remember?"

"What play is that from?"

"MacBeth… I think. Oh, and I forgot Julius Caesar the other day. 'Friends, Romans, Countrymen – lend me your ears'."

"Lend their ears? Was there some kind of ear shortage in Rome?"

"Apparently. One wonders how he paid them back for the loan of the ears – and was the loan repaid with interest?"

"Ol' Julius probably promised them Italy and Spain."

"You should have taken me up on my offer. So let's head to the Strand."

"I said Empire State Building… Is it some local thing to call it the Strand?"

"The Strand is a bookstore. We can go there first before we–"

"Middleton has a bookstore at the mall. If I wanted a book I could–"

"You do not have the Strand in Middleton. We will stop there first," Drakken told him firmly. "We're supposed to be partners on this trip and everything we do has been for you."

"I'm supposed to write a paper on New York!"

"I ask for one teensy little loan to build a giant death ray and you won't give me a nickel–"

"I'm a good guy, remember?"

"So we are going to the Strand before the Empire State Building."

When they reached the bookstore Ron's eyes went wide in amazement.

"They don't have that in Middleton, do they?" Drakken demanded.

"Why are we here?"

"To look for books, obviously."

"I mean, what kind of books do you want. It looks like they've got everything."

"They do. I think we art geniuses might want to pick up something on art in case we meet more of our fans."

"Okay, we… I'll bet they have cookbooks."

"That seems a safe guess."

"Children's books for my little sister. Old romances for mom… I got to call home."

"Fine. I think art is second floor."

"They've got two floors?"

"And a basement, come on."

As the two looked at art books Steve kept filming. Larry had been told the men he was looking for were performance artists and was almost positive he had found them when they headed to the art section. When the two men returned to the main floor he browsed the next stack over, listening in to their conversation. He was now absolutely certain these were the men he was looking for, and got out his cell phone.

"Boss?"

"Larry? Is that you again? I told you not to call unless you knew something for sure."

"I do. I found them. It's the two guys from the other night. What do you want me to do?"

His uncle Kent sighed. What he really wanted was for Larry to throw himself under a taxi, but he couldn't say that. Nor could he tell his nephew that he didn't want him to find the men - he had simply made a promise to the film's star to try and find them. He almost considered telling Larry to go to a bar and forget he had found them, but given Larry's track record with disasters he knew the story would leak somehow, the star would hear, and the rest of the filming would be tense. It would be better to just ask the artists to be there for the scene – he could always edit them out in post-production. "I promised Mr. Depp to have them in the reception scene. Get them."

"Get them?"

"Yeah get them, you know what that means?"

"I tell them that… Do they get paid scale or what for doing this?"

"You tell them scale if they ask. Maybe they'll be happy just to be in the God-damned picture."

"You don't sound happy… Something wrong there?"

"Never mind. Just talk with them. I'll tell Mr. Depp you found them." The two hung up. The director put on his happy face and called to the star, "Johnny! Good news! Found your artists for the reception scene this afternoon."

Feeling a sense of accomplishment Larry moved to where Ron had Drakken had been, but the pair were gone, the books they had planned to buy lay in a heap on the floor. Drakken had heard Larry's end of the call, at least as far as Larry's, 'Get them?' and warned Ron that the mob had found them. Unsure what might be happening Larry moved towards the more open area in the front of the store. He noticed Cynthia running from the store. Since she had been shadowing the pair earlier Larry assumed they had left and she was still following them, and he took off running after her.

Ron and Drakken were almost four blocks from the Strand at this point and running desperately for their lives. They had become very good at running together and weren't even looking back to see if there was pursuit.

Steve was about a block behind the pair, and wishing they would slow down so he could get a better picture. He was running desperately for his chance to post a viral video on YouTube.

Cynthia was less than a block behind Steve. She was _not_ running desperately. Okay, he was cute and his parents had money. But she was not going to pursue any boy _desperately_. She was just running after him because he'd promised her dinner if she kept him company during the filming. He owed her dinner. Cynthia made a mental note to remind Steve of that fact in case he misunderstood her pursuit.

Larry was about a block behind Cynthia, running desperately to show his uncle he was not a total screw-up by locating the men he had been sent to find.

The overweight security guard was running reluctantly half a block behind Larry, wondering what in the hell was going on, why five people had run from the store like bats out of hell, and how far he should run when none of the group had apparently stolen a book.


	13. Truce, Justice, and the American Way

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

I padded some scenes for word count this time, sorry about that.

**Truce, Justice, and the American Way**

Neither Kim nor Shego enjoyed losing, and the sense that they had wasted their time dampened the moods of both women as they returned to the States, although the money helped somewhat.

"I wonder how much this will be after taxes?" Kim asked.

"After taxes?" Shego asked. "What are you talking about?"

"How much of the twenty-eight thousand will I have to pay the IRS?"

"Kim, it's cash. You don't pay taxes on cash. There's no record it even exists. It's the American way."

"Where would the country be if everyone thought like that?"

"Earth to Kim, everyone thinks like that."

"Oh… Well, maybe that explains why the country is where it is. I'm going to report it."

Shego shook her head sadly, "Somehow, Sis, that does not surprise me. Putting all that's left into college fund or going to blow some of it off on fun?"

"I don't know… I feel like I owe Ron something for watching Drakken. That ski trip you talked about sounded like fun. Maybe I'll offer to take him skiing."

Shego grinned, "And, of course, there's something you could offer him that he'd like even more."

"What is… Oh." Kim blushed. "Will you stop that?"

"No way," the green woman laughed, "watching you blush is too much fun. Call your buddy Wade when we're closer and tell him we're on our way home and we'll film anything he wants for our YouTube videos."

"Wade had some great ideas for that."

"What did he say?"

"He's going to try a bunch of stuff, some subtle and some obvious – get people thinking they may be fake and then they'll be imagining problems that aren't there in the real one."

"That's what I said when I suggested real fake videos. What were his ideas on doing it?"

"He'll cut-and-paste bits from real fights so it's supposed to be one fight – but the background keeps changing. He said something about chromakeys, whatever that means. He'll record us, then cut up what we say and dub it into videos so our lips don't match the words. We'll do some scenes where we're wearing makeup or prosthetics to change the shape of our faces so it looks like someone made up to try and look like us."

"Sounds good. You told him to call Joe in Canada, didn't you?"

"I did."

"Did he?"

"I don't know, I haven't talked with him since then."

"Oh, another idea – I want to see if he can hack some of them on under Spyder287's name."

"Why… Oh, so if there are fake ones under his name the real one will… I don't think that's right."

"You can worry about right if you want to. I don't. Have you ever wondered about the ethical niceties of some of the information your buddy Wade hacks for you?"

"He's doing it for good."

"Tell it to a judge. And hacking it onto Spyder's account will be doing good... I think we're back in cell phone range for the US. Call Ron and tell him and blue to get their shit together. We'll be in New York in a couple minutes and can take them back."

Kim got a busy signal when she tried to call Ron. He was on the second floor of the Strand talking to his mother and trying to remember the list of authors and titles she was giving to him. Ron, being a good Jewish son, couldn't tell his mother, 'Hold on mom, I got another call coming in and it might be more important than what you're saying'."

"Busy signal," Kim told Shego.

"They're probably out on the town. Could you find the boys and bring them back to the hotel to pack. You got a way to find boyfriend?"

"There's a GPS chip in his cell phone. Seemed like a good idea after Asia. You're not coming with me?"

"The luck we've had it would be all over the internet. I'm going to avoid being seen with you unless it's necessary – or we're trying to punch each other out. He probably left the phone at his hotel."

"I had a busy signal when I tried to call him."

"Whoever mugged him was probably calling home to Moldova."

"Everything will be fine. You'll see. They would have called us if there was any problem."

"Probably… I just want this all to be over. A couple times it was almost fun, but we're still enemies – once I take you home this truce ends."

"Hey, don't forget the video footage before… In a hurry to go to Canada or something?"

"I can't forget the video. Canada? What an interesting idea."

Kim chuckled, "I'm sure the thought of Canada never entered your mind. Just remember, if you can't be good – be careful."

Shego smiled, "You're okay, Sis. I'll let you find boyfriend and the great blue."

Kim called Wade to get the position of Ron's cell phone. Wade frowned, "Looks like he's moving. I–"

Shego broke in to the conversation. "What way's he headed? I'll drop Princess down a couple blocks ahead and you can direct from there."

Horns blared even more than usual at a New York intersection as the hovercar set down and Kim hopped out quickly. "I'll be at the hotel," the green woman shouted at the departing teen.

"West a block, then turn south," Wade told Kim. "He's almost there… He must be running."

Kim hurried, eager to see Ron. She scanned the pedestrians on the sidewalk after she rounded the corner as directed but didn't see Ron. One odd sight was two women, chained together at their ankles, running like mad in her direction and scattering other people out of their way in their haste. Not being from New York Kim simply stared in wonder. The younger of the two women, the one with the large and unbalanced chest, saw her. "Kim!" s/he shouted.

Kim had grown accustomed to being recognized in various places around the world, but almost wanted to say, "No, I'm not." _"Been around Shego too much,"_ she thought to herself. Then realization dawned, "Ron?"

The pair skidded to a stop in front of her. Ron threw his arms around Kim and gave her a kiss. Drakken bent over, gasping for breath, "Kim… Possible… it's… good… to… see… you…"

It took Kim a few seconds to realize it was indeed Ron kissing her. As the reality sank in she put her arms around him and returned the kiss.

Drakken managed to save up enough breath to warn, "Killer… Following us," as Steve arrived, still filming. "Not him," the blue man gasped.

"Mr. Lipsky? Ron? Are you two all right?" Steve asked.

"Someone chasing us," Drakken explained, as Cynthia arrived on the scene.

"That would be this idiot," Cynthia told Drakken and pointed at Steve. "He wanted to film your new work."

"Someone else," Drakken said, and pointed to Larry still half a block away. "Someone from the mob."

Kim and Ron ended their embrace and Kim assumed a combat stance as Larry arrived, also panting and out of breath.

"Do something!" Drakken shouted, "Hit him!"

"He's a killer," Ron seconded.

"He told me he was from Mammoth Pictures," Cynthia told them. "He said he was trying to find you for a part in a movie."

"A lie," Drakken insisted as the security guard from the Strand reached the group.

"Arrest that man," Ron told the guard.

"I'm security, not police," the guard panted. "What the hell were you people doing running like that?"

"His boss told him to 'get us'," Drakken said pointing at Larry. "He's a killer. So Roy and I ran."

"I'm an art student," Steve explained. "I was filming them," he pointed to Ron and Drakken, "and when they ran I followed."

"I'm trying to keep him," Cynthia explained, pointing at Steve, "from doing something really stupid. I mean, from doing something else really stupid. Besides he owes me dinner and I'm not letting him get out of that promise."

"Larry Stone," Larry told them. "My uncle's directing Johnny Depp's new movie. These two interrupted a scene the other night and–"

"A scene?" Drakken asked.

"In a movie?" Ron echoed.

"I knew that," Drakken insisted.

"Me too," Ron seconded.

"Mister Depp wanted these guys in another scene, so I've been looking for them to–"

"A scene?" Drakken asked.

"In a movie?" Ron echoed.

"I'd love to," Drakken insisted.

"Me too," Ron seconded.

Kim spoke up, "What I want to know is why the two of you are dressed like women?"

"It's our new performance piece," Drakken explained.

"Performance piece?"

"They're artistic geniuses," Steve whispered in a reverential tone.

"Ron," Kim demanded, "did you shave your legs?"

"Uh, for football, Kim. So the trainer's tape doesn't pull it out."

"How high do they wrap the tape?"

The security guard swore at them all, turned and headed back to the Strand as Larry took out his cell phone and called his Uncle.

Kim had another question, "Why the chain?"

"Part of their new work," Cynthia answered.

"New work?" Kim asked skeptically.

"Believe it, KP," Ron assured her. "I'll explain later."

"This is great!" Steve enthused, "I'll get film of you in the movie with–"

"No you won't," Larry told him firmly. "Only Mammoth Pictures has cameras on the set."

"But–"

"No way."

Cynthia put a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Look through what you've got. There must be something you can post."

Larry looked at the two men, "Can you be at the Waldorf-Astoria in ninety-minutes… and out of drag?"

Drakken drew an exaggerated sigh, "Well, I hate cutting this project short… But anything for my good friend Johnny."

Kim took out her phone to call Shego and say that Ron and Drakken had been found, but they couldn't leave as soon as they wanted. "Shego? Found 'em. We're headed back but they can't leave yet."

"Kim… I… Hell, no good ways to give you bad news."

"Bad news?"

"Don't know what those two have been up to, but looks like it involved hookers, there's women's clothing all over their room."

"Why are you in their room?"

"I broke in, what do you think? How can you even ask the question? Didn't you hear what I said?"

"I trust Ron."

"Kim, I'm telling you–"

"I said I trust Ron… You will too after you see them. And I've got a question about a chain."

As Kim returned to the hotel with Ron and Drakken she explained the internet rumor to the pair.

"You? And Shego?" Drakken asked in disbelief, and laughed.

"You're worried people would believe it?" Ron seconded. "No one in their right mind would see you and Shego as a couple… But the two of you would look hot together."

"Ron!" Kim protested.

"Just saying."

Drakken commented, "The two of you would fight more than Ralph and Alice Kramden."

Ron turned to Kim, "It's weird. Sometimes he stops speaking American and talks in some language no one can understand but him."

"I think he's a bad influence on you," Kim told Ron. "I did not need that comment about Shego and I would look hot as a couple."

"It was supposed to be a compliment," he said sadly.

"Sorry," she apologized, "but under the circumstances it wasn't appreciated. And what was this about the two of you being artists? And why are you chained together?"

On location at the movie Drakken complained because he wasn't given any lines. Kim was pleased to be introduced to Johnny Depp. Depp was pleased that the director had followed through. The director was pleased that the men could be edited out, and if the star protested when the film came out he could blame the producer.

Kim looked at the sky as they left the Waldorf. "It's getting dark. I don't know if we can make it to Middleton tonight."

"No way, KP," Ron protested. "I promised Bobby Flay to have dinner with him before we left."

"Bobby Flay? Chef Bobby Flay? You know him?"

"Long story. He gave me his number."

Shego went with them to the Mesa Grill, despite her fears of being seen in public with Kim. Drakken refused the offer to remove the chain binding him to Ron, "I must remain in character for my public," he told the women haughtily.

Bobby joined them, and had various items brought to the table for Ron to sample. "Thinking of adding this to the menu. What do you think?"

"This is great," Ron assured him.

Kim gave her opinion, "Too spicy."

"Oh, Mister Flay," Ron began.

"Call me Bobby, Ron."

"Thanks. This is my girlfriend, Kim."

Bobby looked at Kim and nodded, then spoke to Ron, "I see why you want to take her somewhere special."

"Somewhere special?" Shego asked. If Ron actually asked Kim to go somewhere special the green woman planned to take the credit for threatening him for his lack of attention to Kim's feelings.

"Ah, man," Ron moaned, "It was going to have it a surprise."

"Sorry," Bobby apologized.

"Then I shouldn't ask," Kim said. Those with watches looked at them. Kim's resolve not to ask lasted almost five seconds. "Tell me! Please! How do you know Bobby Flay? What does he mean about you taking me somewhere."

"We were on Chopped," Ron started to explain, "and I won… Well, it was a tie… Well, Bobby really won but–"

"Don't sell yourself short," Bobby told him and turned to Kim. "He's quite an accomplished cook."

Kim smiled, "I agree. He–"

"I was helping him," Drakken interrupted.

"Shut up and let them tell the story," Shego suggested.

Ron and Bobby sketched the Chopped episode for the two women. "And when Ted asked Ron what he was going to do with the money..." Bobby finished.

"I said I hadn't planned on winning, but maybe I'd take you somewhere special. I know you like skiing…"

"A day with you at Mount Middleton would be wonderful," Kim told Ron.

"I was thinking maybe somewhere better. I mean, I'm mostly on the bunny slopes but I know you can really ski and we could go–"

"No," Shego told him.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" Ron protested.

"If you're asking my kid sister out for some fancy ski vacation and spending a bundle on her it's obvious what you're after."

"Shego!" Kim hissed.

"Obvious to me," Shego insisted. "Hang onto your virtue, Pumpkin, it's so much fun watching you blush when I say something dirty."

What Shego meant finally sank in for Ron, "Hey, I'm not trying to get her in bed or anything!"

The green woman arched one eyebrow, "You're not interested in getting her in bed? Where were you planning to do it, on a couch in the lobby of the ski lodge?"

"I don't want to… with her!"

"No? So who are you hoping to bang? What were you and Drakken here doing while–"

"Shego!" Drakken objected.

"I don't want to have sex with Kim! Okay, I do want to have sex with Kim… No, I just… I mean… When I suggested that we go skiing I wasn't…" Ron closed his eyes and laid his head on the table, "Shoot me now. Just shoot me now and put me out of my misery."

Kim softly laid her hand on the Ron's back, "It's okay. I think it is a very sweet idea. I got paid for the mission. Maybe we could go Dutch to some nice resort and you could pay for lift tickets or something." Kim looked at Shego, "Will that get you off his back?"

Shego shrugged, "I guess so. I'll even give him points for thinking of it by himself." The thief then silently mouthed,_ "Be careful,"_ and winked at Kim.

"You're thinking of a ski resort?" Bobby Flay asked as Ron straightened up.

"Yeah, I'd like to take Kim somewhere really nice."

"I don't know how much you want to spend, but this resort called Portillo in Chile is fantastic."

"No," Shego said firmly.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" Ron demanded.

"You're not taking her there. Anywhere else in the world, but you're not taking her there."

_"Shego doesn't tell us what to do,"_ Ron thought. _"I'm taking Kim to that Portillo place."_

The subject changed, and the group resumed eating. As Bobby described desserts to the two men Shego's cell phone played 'Oh Canada,' and the green woman blushed and took the call. After listening to Joe's message she connected to the internet and found the YouTube file Joe had told her to watch. She started to laugh, "Kim, not sure if we still need to make our fake videos or not."

"Fake videos?" Ron asked.

"I'll explain later," Kim promised. "Remember what I said about the Internet?"

Ron had no idea how that related to fake videos.

"What is it?" Kim asked Shego. The thief handed her smart phone to Kim. Ron put his head by Kim's so they could look at the small screen together. The first thing Kim noticed was the video – Kim kissing Ron in drag that afternoon. The next thing Kim noticed was the title of the video, "Kim Possible Dumps Shego for Really Ugly Girl." Kim groaned, wondering if life could get any worse.

"No way!" Ron exclaimed in protest.

"Thanks, Ron," Kim sighed, "after this–"

"I was not really ugly!"

-The End-


End file.
